#I was like one millisecond away from murdering him but my boss was right there and he ripped that guy's ass open HOOOOOLY SHIT

[chopzoe]

retail is one of the most cruel things humanity ever created

#personal #personal ramble mamble #there was a guy walking through the emergency exit door even though there were SIGNS AND FUCKING RED LIGHTS EVERYWHERE #when I ask him why he went through it even though it says it's not a regular exit he called me a stupid bi*** #like completely unhinged and uncalled for i was asking him *nicely* in a soft voice #I was like one millisecond away from murdering him but my boss was right there and he ripped that guy's ass open HOOOOOLY SHIT #but i am honestly still baffled #retail #customer service #work

[ashleyh713fanfics]

Dazai X Odasaku!Sister "Timeless" P2

Hello! I've been writing for awhile but this is the first time writing bsd. I gave Oda's sister a name but I'll do a version with y/n if that's more your speed. Synopsis: After Odasaku's death Dazai searches for a way to fulfill his last request but doesn't know where to start. That is until he meets Odasaku's mysterious little sister. Warnings: Usual bsd warnings. Murder, talks of death and suicide, Dazai being a sociopath. Part 2/3

Read Part One Here: https://www.tumblr.com/auranova713/741634729746612224/dazai-x-odasakusister-timeless-p1

Another one of his victims' screams filled the space before he was silenced permanently as Dazai blankly put his gun back into his holster before exiting the room in pure silence. Mori had given him extra work to “keep his mind busy” in order to not attempt another suicide in the wake of Odasaku’s death but the boy just found it boring. 

In fact, he found everything boring. The guy he was torturing didn’t even show him anything interesting. He didn’t make any fun expressions or say anything of note. It was all just run of the mill screaming and cursing. Sigh. 

Moving out into the hallway, the boy then wandered into the next place on his schedule in order to go inside the meeting room and slump into the chair with a childish groan. “Mori, I’m bored. That guy was the worstttt.” 

The mafia boss only chuckled though, his fingers resting under his chin like they usually did. “Apologies Dazai. I’ll make sure to find you something more interesting to play with next time.” 

Pouting his lips, the boy frowned. “You’re just saying that so I won’t attempt another suicide again. It’s not fair! You sneaky man. So evil.” 

Once again, Mori only laughed, already used to Dazai’s dark words. “You aren’t wrong there. I guess I just wanted to bring you back to your usual self after you’ve been off the last week. Of course I know why but I need my executive to remain sharp.” 

Giving the man a warning eye for a split second at the vague mention of Oda, the boy then quickly threw it away in order to kick his feet under the table. “Ughhh fine. This meeting better be interesting at least.” 

Spoiler alert, the meeting wasn’t interesting in the slightest. They just talked about a string of uprisings in the area that were challenging the port mafia. Blah blah basic stuff really. 

See, this was the problem with Dazai. His world always spun far too fast for anyone to comprehend. It was like everyone else was constantly moving at a snail's pace and the boy found it a pain to slow down even for a millisecond. 

He was sharp, calculating and observant, more than anyone else could be. And in a way he wished that wasn’t the case, finding the experience boring and dull. Nothing could interest him for long enough for him to care. The entire world was just a toy he threw away time and time again. 

Any conversation he held was already finished before he could even speak, every move from an enemy was deciphered in a millisecond of them thinking it. It was all so boring. Everything, everyone. He was numb to it all. 

And sure, there were things that remedied that. Alcohol was a vice that temporarily slowed him down but it wasn’t ever enough, sex felt good but was also fleeting in terms of enjoyment and torturing only brought him possible entertainment not fulfillment. 

So much so, Dazai didn’t see a point in it all, wanting to just die rather than have to suffer in the mediocrity for the rest of his life. That right, a quick painless death was what was best for him. If only the universe would let him have that. 

Cause apparently Mori would not. How annoying. 

Couldn’t he see that there was truly no value in living?

-----------

Once his meeting was finished, the boy found himself wandering the streets of Yokohama once more. He was only a couple blocks from the port mafia base but that place was making him antsy. He needed to find something interesting and fast. 

Usually he would’ve harassed his idiot partner Chuuya but he was out of the country on a mission which meant that his usual toy wasn’t available. Ah how unfortunate.  

Just then, Dazai’s uncovered eye couldn’t help but focus on a very familiar individual, her crimson red hair skipping with her steps as he looked wide eyed wandering through the crowds of people. 

And if he didn’t know who she was, the boy would’ve thought she was a tourist with how fascinated and enamored she was with everything. 

So much so, the boy couldn’t help but watch her silently, his head turning in interest. He thought Ango had sent her back home last night. But what was she doing here, and so close to the port mafia base? 

And he didn’t plan to pursue her, Ango’s deep warning still clear in the back of his head. Well, that was until he watched the girl step into oncoming traffic, her eyes not noticing the red flashing lights at the intersection in the slightest. 

At the sight, Dazai’s heart couldn’t help but drop inside his chest as images of Odasaku’s death crashed into him immediately. And though this girl wasn’t him, her similarities made him feel like he was watching his best friend’s death again. 

So much so, he lifted his bandaged arm towards her in anxiety, pulling her backwards into his chest just as a car flew past them and across her vision and shouted out the window. “Hey! Watch where you’re walking!” 

Asagao then blinked behind her glasses in order to turn around to meet the frazzled boy only for her eyes to light up with that same kind of giddy joy he saw last night. “Oh. Osamu! Nice to see you again! I was hoping we would run into each other soon!” 

He paused at the sound of his first name. How odd, no one usually called him that. So informally. Then again, from what he gathered from Ango she wasn’t from around here. Which probably meant she was used to living in a place that used surnames, unlike Japan. 

Strangely enough though, the boy didn’t comment on it, finding the name refreshingly different. “You know, if you want to die there are less messy ways to do it. I could give you some pointers if you’d like?.”

Asagao only looked at him confused though, her blue eyes barely noticeable behind her large circular glasses. “Die?” 

Yet that’s when Dazai pointed over towards the crosswalk that almost killed her only for her to follow his finger and squint her eyes in silence. Was her eyesight really that bad? But she was wearing glasses. 

Then he watched her gasp audibly before nodding her head in understanding. “Ohhhh…so that’s what that red light was. Sorry, I’m not used to the streets here. Back home it wouldn’t be such a problem. Thanks for saving me from being a pancake though, I really appreciate it. That would’ve been embarrassing.” 

Well. that confirmed it. Her eyesight really was shit. Dazai wondered why she even made it this far with something like that. Probably out of pure luck from the looks of it. 

Which begged the question why she was here in the first place. “Didn’t Ango say he was taking you back?” 

And looking at her, he realized that maybe Ango was right after all. She obviously didn’t have the cautious intuition to live in Yokohama, considering she almost died by that truck a couple seconds ago. 

The way she was now, he doubted she’d last the rest of the day.

Asa only smiled sheepishly though, a hand to her head in order to answer nervously. “Ah, yeah. But then I kinda..ran away from him..?”

Ran away? Did she just say she ran away from Ango? Oh now that was too good. She slipped out from under him so easily. If only he could see the look on his face when it happened. Honestly good, Dazai knew he deserved the misery. 

So much so, the bandaged mafioso's lips curved upwards before giving a short chuckle of his own. “Ha! I bet he’s scrambling right now.”

Although that was when he watched Odasaku’s sister pause for a moment before shifting around on her feet, like she was nervous before finally speaking. “Anyways since you're here you wanna go somewhere with me?”

Dazai felt himself pause then. Just what was her game? No one had ever invited him anywhere before, well without ill intentions. “And why would I do that?”

Asa then looked down for a moment before shrugging her shoulders in order to reply. “Cause you’re bored?”

Feeling himself freeze, Dazai couldn’t help but feel amused by her answer. How did she know he was searching for something to entertain him, something to fill the mundane? It’s like she had read him. 

Or it could've been a lucky guess, that was more likely. 

Either way, the boy felt himself smile under his breath before reaching forward in order for his fingers to wrap around her arm and pull her forward with a low whisper. “Are you saying you’ll entertain me, darling?” 

He meant it as a joke to toy with her, wanting to see her off guard and flustered face from how close the distance suddenly was. 

Yet he was certainly surprised when she only nodded her head, like she was accepting some sort of challenge. “I’ll try my best!” 

In fact, she didn’t seem bothered by his hold, the boy’s fingers tightening ever so slightly before feeling his lips turn upwards when more, this time in a genuine sign of interest. 

Well, would you look at that? Odaskau’s sister had just cured his boredom. 

Allowing his fingers to unhook from the sight, the mafioso then stared down at his new entertainment before speaking lightly. “Very well, lead the way.” 

Then all at once, he watched the girl practically squeal with delight in order to do some sort of dance with her feet before beaming joyfully. “Ahh! Thank thank you. It’s just this way..I think…” 

Turning her body around, the girl was then gasping as she walked straight into a passerby only for her to jump back with a nervous chuckle and bow. “Oops, sorry! Excuse me!” 

Dazai couldn’t help but gaze at her with hilarity before following behind with a chuckle. 

Oh Asagao, how strange you are. I’ll dig into that brain of yours soon enough.

---------

The place she took him was towards the edge of town, up on a cliff as it overlooked the entire city of Yokohama. And to some, the purple/pink colored sky would be called beautiful. But to Dazai he didn’t feel the same, only looking down at the distance in order to gauge how much it would hurt if he jumped off. 

Asagao, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying herself. “Whoa, it’s just like brother described it. I can’t believe I’m actually here. Finally, if only it wasn’t too late.” 

The girl then looked down with a sad distant smile before turning towards Dazai. “Tell me, Osamu. Is it really as beautiful as I think it is?” 

And even though she was looking at the same sky, the boy couldn’t help but see the disconnect in her eyes. It was like she wasn’t truly viewing it, like she was only seeing a blurred vague picture of what it was supposed to be. 

Putting the pieces together, Dazai spoke. “Why don’t you take your glasses off and find out? They don’t help you see anyways.” 

It was something he figured out the minute she stepped into that oncoming traffic. On the outside it looked like the girl was oblivious to her surroundings but Dazai was smarter than that. He knew there was more to her than meets the eye

And it had everything to do with the large glasses that covered her vision. But what he couldn't figure out is why she was walking around with the wrong prescription? Why was she just going around life unable to see? 

His statement didn’t shock Asagao though, her arms leaning against the railing before speaking wistfully. “Now why would I do that? What if it’s not as amazing as I’m picturing in my mind, what if the reality isn’t as beautiful? No, the art of pure imagination is better I think.” 

Then, Dazai had his answer. “You wear them on purpose.” 

Watching her eyes widen at his words, the girl then lifted her fingers up to the objects before giving a laugh that sounded like relief. “You’re the first person that’s noticed. Usually people just call me clumsy and stupid.” 

She then pushed herself back off the railing in order to stretch her arms out as Dazai watched with pure interest for her actions. “Tell me, Osamu. What is the value of life?” 

Her question was almost laughable, the boy knowing better than anyone what the truth is. “Easy, there is none.” 

And for a second he thought she would disagree with him, that she would tell him he was being silly or unreasonable like everyone else did. That, or they tried to convince them that his answer was false when it clearly wasn’t. 

Yet Asagao did none of those things, her eyes simply closing before smiling softly. “That’s right. But what if there could be the possibility of one?” 

At that, Dazai paused. The possibility of value? What was she saying? That didn’t make sense. Of course there was no possibility. He had never even thought of one before. 

What a naive thing to say.

He opened his mouth to counter before Asa simply knew what he was going to say and beat him to it. “I’m not dumb, I know that the world is cruel, I know that it turns on you in the worst ways. I know that if you truly see what is happening, it crushes you into nothing. If you look at it for too long it will consume you and break you.”

Lifting her head up, the girl then continued plainly. “But what you didn’t have to look at, you didn’t have to perceive it? Then you can see past that, you can imagine something bigger, something better.”

Asa then pointed to her glasses before pushing them up in order to cover her entire face as she finished with pure honesty. “That’s why I choose to be blind, to live life in a blurry uncertain reality. I would rather see existence for how it could be rather than how it is. I want to give the world a chance to be beautiful, and then maybe one day, it actually will be..” 

Flashing with some sort of realization, she then muttered under her breath. “Well that, and another reason you’ll find out soon enough..”

And although Dazai wanted to ask her about the other reason, he was far too caught up in the romanticized answer she had given him. How strange, this girl was both self aware and purposely blinded to the way the world worked. 

She knew that there was no value and was still searching for one? How preposterous. He knew she’d only find disappointment by doing that. Life wasn’t that gracious, it wasn’t going to show her anything beautiful. She was wasting her time. 

Because of that, the boy lowered his eyes, a dark feeling pooling inside his chest at the words. “And what if you never find it, what if there is no value after all?” 

He then watched her think for a second before turning towards him with a look of pure confidence. “Well, then at least my life would be filled with sweet delusions rather than horrible realities. I would be able to die with peace.” 

Yet a second later, the girl seemed to catch the blank look in Dazai’s eyes before quickly turning away with embarrassment. “I know, you’re looking at me like I’m crazy, and maybe I am. That’s usually the reaction people give me. Either that or they tell me to check into a mental hospital.”

And for a moment, Dazai felt himself pause to really think about her ideals. Sure, maybe a normal ordinary person would look at her like she was crazy but he was far from normal. So much so, the boy couldn't help but mull over the words silently. 

Then, he spoke wistfully. “Dying with peace, that’s what I want too.”

All at once, Asagao perked her head up at that, slowly turning back to him only for Dazai to add lightly. “And believing there is a point to it all when there isn’t, it’s an interesting sentiment..” 

Turning her head back to him, the girl leaned forward with a new kind of desperation, like she was begging to be understood for once. “You really think so?” 

Dazai only nodded his head though, his mind deep in thought. “Yeah, maybe if I looked at life like that then things wouldn’t be so dull all the time. Maybe the world could be something other than boring.”

And he meant those words, never having thought of such a ridiculous thing before. How strange, Odasaku’s sister had said something rather intriguing. He hadn’t felt like that in awhile. 

Asagao then frowned before turning her head in question. “Do you think everything is boring?” 

Dazai lifted his hands in response, his badges showing through his black jacket. “Of course, because that’s what it is. Nothing has ever surprised me and nothing ever will. That’s why I wanna go as quickly and painlessly as possible, just so it can be over.” 

And usually when he told people about his plans to die they looked shocked and confused. Not Asagao though, she only nodded her head like what he was saying was a logical and sound statement. 

Pausing for a moment, she then whispered. “But what about my brother, did he surprise you?” 

At the mention of Oda, the mafioso felt himself stiffen before a sad smile crossed his lips in memory. “Odasaku was interesting, but he always did as I predicted. With him, I didn’t mind as much though. Moving slowly wasn’t as annoying.” 

Those nights at Bar Lupin may have been just as pointless as everything else was but Dazai felt different there. He felt strangely human, more so than ever before. There he could pretend, he could play the part of being a normal fifteen year old kid rather than the brutal demon prodigy he really was. 

It didn’t matter if Odasaku was lower in rank than him, the man was just his friend. That's all it was to it. 

He then heard the girl hum only to find her gazing down as if to search for something invisible.

She was making that face again, the one that looked like she was struggling to find the impossible. “I see..” 

And this time, Dazai spoke on it. “You didn’t know him, did you?”

Widening her eyes at his declaration, Asa then turned to him in shock only for Dazai to explain his deduction. “Your eyes look disconnected when you talk about him, like you can’t paint a picture fully no matter how desperately you want to.” 

Then she closed her eyes before speaking sadly. “Oda was gone for most of my life and I never blamed him for it. I know the life he lived was dangerous and he didn’t want me in it. I could live with that. He took my place in the darkness so I never had to experience it.” 

Playing with her hands, Asa then put them down before continuing. “But when you told me that he died, I realized that I felt…nothing. I couldn’t mourn, I couldn’t even feel grief because my brother was a complete stranger to me. He still is. I have no idea what he was like or who he was.” 

It was something that Dazai had figured out since their first meeting. Why else would anyone be so nonchalant about their brother’s death unless they didn’t really know them. 

And the way she always spoke about him, it seemed detached and odd. 

Opening her eyes once more, the red haired girl then turned towards the mafia executive before staring straight through him. “But you do, Osamu. You poured a drink for him, you knew how precious he was. I’m jealous of it, of the way you knew my brother in a way I never could.” 

At that, the boy’s head couldn’t help but feel a strange unexplainable feeling. He felt strange, knowing that she was right. He knew Odasaku better than anyone, better than his own sister, and now that he was dead she would never get the chance to. 

Those memories at Bar Lupin were his and his alone. She couldn’t have them so matter how desperate. 

His eyes then flashed with realization. So that’s why she said it was okay if he killed her. Because she knew that Dazai was the closest thing she could ever get to seeing her brother. Asagao wanted him to pull that trigger in a desperate attempt to be closer to him. 

Snapping him out his thoughts, the girl then pointed to the landscape. “That’s why I came up here. He used to write me letters about his time here, and though I could never send any back I treasured them. I hoped that when I came here I could finally be a bit closer to him, that I could see who he really was.” 

He recalled her saying something about that before, Dazai leaning forward in order to pry. “You said that he wrote about me.” 

And he tried not to sound desperate but just the idea of getting to have anything else from Odasaku even after his death was enough to make him long for it. New words, new paragraphs. He wanted to know them all. 

It seemed like Asago sensed it anyways though, her eyes lifting with interest for the reaction. “Would you like to read them?” 

Dazai remained silent at that, not wanting to show his desire only for Asa to kick herself off the railing in order to stroll up to him with a mischievous stare. “I’ll let you, under one condition.” 

Her words sounded like blackmail, causing the trained mafioso's shoulders to tense. 

Yet that’s when the girl simply lifted her arms out with a goofy smile. “Be my boyfriend.” 

And for once, Dazai had not expected that, his eyes blinking with slight disbelief before quickly twisting his lips into a devious smirk. 

Poor girl didn’t know what she was asking for. “What, have you fallen for me?” 

Asago only nodded her head though, obviously not embarrassed. “You could say that.” 

And this time, Dazai couldn’t help but laugh, stalking up to the red haired girl before leaning forward in order to latch onto her chin and pull her forward with dark intent. “You don’t even know who I am though.” 

She wasn’t scared in the slightest though, her blue eyes simply narrowing before speaking cocky. “Says you.” 

Says you? What a weird way to answer. Dazai knew for a fact that she didn’t know him, cause if she did then she would never be asking the question in the first place. Such confidence for someone that was dead wrong. 

Besides, even if she did know he was a brutal mafia executive he highly doubted Odaskau would have agreed to the two of them being together. Nah, he knew he would just ruin her. Sure, it would be fun to watch but the fact that she was his best friend's sister made him resist such an idea. 

He then paused for a moment before finally letting up in order to shrug his shoulders. “Well, sorry to disappoint but I’m not in the market for a girlfriend right now, sweetheart.” 

Asagao only narrowed her brow in silence though, truly taking his answer to heart before nodding once in order to point a finger and beam. “Alright then, how about a bet?”

Dazai felt his interest peek at that, unable to stop himself. “A bet?” 

Taking a step closer to him, the girl then explained “You said that no one has ever surprised you, well I bet by the end of the day I can at least once. If I win you have to be my boyfriend and if you win I’ll show you all of Oda’s letters and never ask again. What do you say?” 

And whether she had meant it or not, Dazai’s devious mind couldn’t help but revel in the idea. He loved bets and more than that, he loved winning and seeing the confused and or pissed off look in their way when they found out he was way smarter. 

He could almost picture Chuuya’s stupid face when he won all their little rivalries. 

And this time, the fact that she was Odasaku’s sister didn’t save her, the demon eying down his prey with a dark smirk. “I’ll have you know I’ve never lost a bet before.” 

Asagao wasn’t shaken though, her face unchanging as she hummed. “Well, I’m in luck because betting on impossible chances happens to be a hobby of mine...”

She was cocky, but he knew that wouldn’t last long. Even still, the boy humored her, knowing how sweet it would feel when she lost. 

And she would lose, that was one hundred percent certain.

Lifting his fingers out, the mafioso then grabbed her hand forcefully before pushing it up to his lips in a mocking kiss of challenge. “Oh? Well then, show me what you got, darling.” 

She didn’t blush though, she didn’t freak out or turn red. The girl simply gasped at the agreement before jumping back with a newfound passion. “Really?! Alright, Let’s go then!” 

Yet the moment she turned around, Asagao bumped her entire body into the railing, her steps faltering in order for a couple things to fall out of her pocket as she gasped. “Whoa, who put that railing there, am I right? Ha ha ha. Crazy.” 

But because this was the third time of her falling, Dazai only chuckled in order to turn away from her completely. A good person would’ve told her about her missing items but the boy hardly cared, already eager to see her fail miserably.

Part 2/3

Read Part 1 Here:

#bsd dark era #bsd dazai #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #fanfic #fanfiction #dazai x y/n #dazai x fem reader #dazai x you #bsd writing #bsd odasaku #dazai x odasaku!sister #ao3 fanfic

[easyrevenge]

shinkami drabble

word count : 1.6k

ship: shinsou hitoshi / kaminari denki 

rated: t

summary: denki has a crush on shinsou who works across the street at the second-hand music shop.

(ive never written shinkami before & i’ve been having writers block so i wrote this based on true events for warm-up.)

Kaminari is pretty sure he might die. 

“You’re being so dramatic,” Mina tells him. And yeah, he is, but that hardly changes the fact that he’s starving. Not to death but it’s significant. He forgot to eat breakfast and wasn’t even on the schedule to work today. He’s just a good employee, and friend, or whatever. Denki thinks Mina could at least be a little more--”But, someone did leave their Café Luna bag behind about an hour ago. See what’s in it.”

Denki loves her. “Café Luna? That place is expensive!” And delicious, so he’s heard. The restaurant opened a few weeks ago down the block and since then the line has been wrapped around the corner. 

He hurries to the back of their shop and rummages through the mini-refrigerator that definitely should have been cleaned out at least three weeks ago. Past some questionable yogurt cups, he finds what he’s looking for.

Denki only spends a solid five seconds debating the morality of the situation--is it rude to eat someone’s untouched food? What if they come back for it? But it’s a short-lived consideration, especially once he sees what’s inside; a small clear container with what a fancy as fuck sandwich—“It’s been an hour, surely they would have come back by now…” he reasons. Most importantly, as well as the deciding factor, “Oh hell yes!” A huge, insanely thick double chocolate chip cookie. “Sorry not sorry, loser.” Who the hell could leave any of this behind?

The sandwich is obliterated within minutes. Then Denki, because he is a good friend and model employee, brings the cookie back out to the front and offers some to Mina. 

“You’re sweet, Denks,” she says, patting his shoulder. Then she laughs, “But it looks like you might cry if I say yes and you're forced to actually share.”

Denki really, really loves her. 

He’s half-way through the cookie, propped up on the counter and munching away while Mina does all the clean up tasks that he’s excused from today for coming in. This is their usual slow hour anyway, not a customer in sight. Easy money. 

“So, I forgot to tell you that your walking wet-dream came by earlier.” 

Denki almost chokes on his cookie. “What! When? What was he wearing?” 

Mina smiles as she wipes the counters down. “I was swamped so I didn’t get a good look. He was in and out pretty quick.”

Denki leans back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment to revel in a quick day dream. One where he’s smooth and clever, manages to get his number, then maybe a date, a blow job, a boyfriend, a decent, regularly scheduled lay. He’d take that in any order, really. 

Denki’s never actually talked to the guy but he does know his name is Shinsou thanks to a very tactful phone call by Mina. He works at the secondhand music store across the street and one morning while opening shop they made eye contact across the asphalt. Denki had been sweeping while the other was writing a music lesson schedule on a chalkboard menu. It was anticlimactic, lasting no more than three seconds, but Denki never stops thinking about it. 

Shinsou is intimidating in the way that most pretty people are. He looks mean, disinterested. It pulls Denki in unquestionably, especially because he always smiles (full teeth) whenever he spots Shinsou through the window and rarely gets anything back except the highly coveted lifted eyebrow. Denki’s favorite thing about him is his eyes, dark and liquidy.

Denki also cares a lot about fashion and Shinsou’s clothes are the brand of cool that is obviously effortless, all black. His messy purple hair is usually pushed back with one of those cheap, zigzag plastic hair combs that were popular in the 90s.

Shinsou is aggressively hot, it’s almost offensive. Denki isn’t sure if he has a league but Shinsou is out of everyone’s.

“I can’t believe he actually came in. What did he order?”

Mina shrugs, “He just bought bottled water but he did spend a minute staring at your freaky art.”

“Oh my god,” Denki flushes pink with excitement and disbelief. He doesn’t exactly call himself an artist but he does fuck around a lot in his small studio and paint weird, neon colored, warped looking Pokémon-monster hybrids. Mina let’s him display them around her fruit shop because she’s a good friend. 

A customer comes in and Denki continues to lounge on the counter, still daydreaming of purple hues and picking at the cookie while Mina makes a smoothie that has far too many vegetables. 

“Hey Denks,” Mina says after the customer has left with their inevitable bowel movement in a cup. She sounds weird. He looks over and she’s smiling like the Cheshire Cat. He knows he’s fucked. “We’re best friends and I’m your boss, so you’re obligated to forgive me.”

Denki’s heart is squeezing tight and he stares wide eyed. “What did you do?”

Mina turns to look out through the front windows where Shinsou is currently looking left, then right, before doing a half-jog across the street. She hurriedly looks back at Denki, “I forgot to tell you the Café Luna bag was Shinsou’s and now it looks like he’s coming back for it and I’m going to go on my break now, bye.” She says the last part in one breath while the door opens and the little bell on top rings. 

Shinsou walks in and all the air is pulled from Denki’s lungs.

Denki doesn’t have time to think, just react. He practically throws himself off the counter and—again, not thinking because who has time for that when someone that good-looking is walking your way—does the only thing he can think of to dispose of the evidence. 

He shoves the rest of the cookie into his mouth. It’s a big fucking cookie, even with only half of it left. 

He never should have come into work today. 

The chime of the door tinkers again when it closes and Denki knows he has about 3.5 seconds before Shinsou reaches the front counter. He chews vigorously, practically suffocating on cookie crumbs and chocolate chips, but it’s all just turned to paste in his mouth and there’s no hope. 

Then, he starts to choke. 

“Should I call emergency services or just let you die.” It hardly sounds like a question and if it is, Shinsou is asking himself.

Denki sputters, standing up from his half-crouch in an attempt to hold on to an ounce of his dignity. But it’s all lost when they make eye contact and Denki knows there’s nothing he can do, so he just holds up a finger to say hold on before spinning around and grabbing the small trash bin under the sink. 

He spits the cookie mush into the bin, eyes watering while he coughs the dust out of his lungs, and prays that death comes swiftly in the next few seconds. 

Denki hates Mina. So, so much. 

Catching his breath, Denki leans forward over the sink and runs the water. He wonders if he should fill it up and drown himself but opts for rinsing his face instead. The eyes boring holes into his back are unrelenting and vicious. He turns around and regrets being born. 

Shinsou is way too goddamn pretty. His eyes drink Denki in, full of judgement and unabashed intensity before blinking back into nonchalance. “He lives.”

Denki can’t help it, he laughs. It’s loud and a bit wet because he hasn’t wiped off his face. What a mess. “Unfortunately.”

Shinsou doesn’t allow for any awkward silences though, just moves the conversation forward with ease. Denki barely has time to feel embarrassed but he knows he’s blushing deeper with every millisecond that ticks by. 

“I left my lunch here earlier, I think. A bag from Café Luna.” 

Denki considers lying because surely that would be the easiest route. He attempts to wipe his face off with the inner elbow of his sweater, nervous. “Oh—uh, I don’t…”

Shinsou holds up a long, slender finger.  Denki wonders what instruments he plays. Maybe he should sign up for one of his lessons, give himself a second-chance to make a good impression. Erase this one from existence. 

He shakes his head, explaining, “You have chocolate smeared on your chin.” An obvious accusation. Denki is so fucked. 

He sighs. “The cookie looked way too good, dude.” It feels good to confess, at least. “I’m sorry,” Denki apologizes, eyes downcast as he pulls at the hem of his sweater. 

“Are you,” Shinsou replies and Denki wants to run out the door but then something happens. Shinsou laughs. It’s a quiet sound, breathy and warm and deep. Denki looks up and smiles brightly because wow, that sounds like music. “I don’t think you are.”

Denki catches something like a smile on the corner of Shinsou’s mouth and it gives him some of his confidence back. Just enough. “Yeaaaah,” he breathes, grinning sheepishly. “It was really tasty so maybe not that sorry.”

“Sorry you got caught.”

“Definitely.”

“A true criminal.” Shinsou nods, something like approval. Then he pulls out his phone to check the time. Denki is already disappointed this interaction is ever going to end, despite his embarrassment. 

“I’ll have the sandwich back at least, I only have ten minutes left of my lunch break. I’m starving.”

No, yeah, Denki is going to fucking murder Mina. He’ll be an actual criminal. 

Denki knows his silence is telling but there’s no cool way to talk himself out of this. Instead he puts on his best pouty smile and apologetic eyes. Shinsou looks so unimpressed until he doesn’t, just annoyed.

He clicks his tongue, sucking air through his teeth like a disappointed parent. “I’m off in three hours.”

Denki pulls a face.  “Oh-kay.” 

Shinsou looks like he wants to roll his eyes. Denki feels hot all over, degraded even though he hasn’t been called any names or chastised. 

The silence makes Denki itchy so he breaks it with a fountain of apologies and offers to pay him back. “Do you have Venmo? Just charge me the cost! My username is 69Pika—”

“Please, stop.”

“Okay.”

Shinsou knocks his knuckles on the counter, looking him over once more before taking a few steps back. Another customer comes in and the bell tinkers twice, open, then close. 

They watch each other for a moment.

“If you’re off in time, you’re buying dinner after my shift. I’ll meet you outside the shop.” Then Shinsou turns and leaves and Denki just smiles because what the fuck else was he supposed to do. 

God, he loves Mina. 

#shinkami #kamishin #denki x shinsou #bnha

[scarletbluebird13]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a general MK fic where whilst they’re doing something in public (i.e. dinner, shopping), we catch sight of an enemy, and a few moments later, chaos ensues and after we go BAMF, we end up with an injury that is quite serious but we brush it off? Thanks if ever you choose to do this :)

Damn Idiot

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Title: Masquerade Kiss

Pairing: ?(ambiguous) x MC 

Tags: idk what to put here; shonen?? 

Triggers: mention of blood, fighting, stabby-stabby, heavy cursing

Word count: 2038

A/N: Hiya! Thank you for the request, Nonnie! <3 I hope this is at least close to what you wanted - since no character was specified and you requested a fic, I decided to write you a fic with no specifics on who the suitor is -- hopefully his role is ambiguous enough any of the four guys could fit in <3 And I know you probably wanted one of the guys to have the cool action moment -- but MC got snubbed in her own series in all four routes and I didn’t feel right downgrading her capabilities here either -- Hope this is pretty close to what you had in mind, my apologies if it wasn’t what you wanted. Luv you Nonnie! Thank you for your request~ It was appreciated (lol thanks for laying out a general idea for what you wanted and giving me enough creative space) Feedback/criticism always welcome <3 :)

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Palm to palm, interlocking fingers - his warmth seeps into my hand. A welcomed sensation and one I’m used to. A sensation dearly missed. I’ve just returned from a month-long mission in Los Angeles. All the sunshine in that state doesn’t come close to the warmth emanating from his hand. Typically, he’d find a way to be with me - he can be impulsive at times, but then again, what did I reasonably expect when I decided I wanted us to take the next step in our relationship? I’ve missed him so much - all those lonely nights without him…the other side of the bed empty and his smell absent from the sheets. Heh. But the nights we teased each other even though we were on different continents were fantastic. ...I wonder how tonight will go…? 

“What are you smirking about?”  

I glance up at him - but the way he’s so cool and collected in public, you’d never guess that handsome face was capable of mercilessly teasing me.

“What fun is it if I just tell you?”

A smirk tugs at his lips, satisfied with my response as he replies; “I’d expect nothing less from you.”

My heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of my chest as he gives my hand a squeeze - it’s embarrassing, but I couldn’t care less. I haven’t seen him in a month - I’ve craved his touch - and right now, it’s like we’re both immune to the stares of onlookers. Murmurs and sharp whispers can’t reach us. Not only could we care less about pda - what they say, what they think; none of it matters. What’s more? Today happens to be our anniversary and since I managed to complete the mission just in time, he’s decided to take me out on a mystery date - though, he’s so unpredictable I don’t have the slightest clue where we’re headed. 

Basking in the rare happiness and serenity, however, lay my own suspicions. 

I’ve had this sinking feeling since we began walking hand-in-hand - like there’s more to the onlookers than just passersby shocked at harmless hand holding. But today’s our day off, so I push my worries out of my mind, letting them settle in the peripheral of my mind’s eye. 

However, it’s not long before my heart begins accelerating with new meaning. 

I hear rapid footsteps approaching from behind - ones with purpose and imperativeness. All my instincts as an agent - and one who just wrapped up a mission the other day, no less - tell me this is no accident and this person means to charge toward us. Careful to not harm an innocent man running late for something or another, I look in the reflection of the window of the store in front of us, and see the man looks sketchy. Even though his eyes are covered, it’s clear he’s burning daggers at us. Whoever the target - the man at my side or myself - my instinct is to place a bullseye on this guy. 

When I see he’s too close and a millisecond would be too late to do anything, I drop the hand at my side, face the person, and land a hard kick to the ribs. In no way is the blow fatal, just enough to send the poor soul to the ground, coughing up blood. 

“___, do you know him?” 

“Oh yeah! He’s my best friend from high school, we used to do everything together- No. Of course I don’t know him.”

“Oh~ So even after kicking a man to the ribs she’s got her spice?”

“Shut up. He’s got friends.” 

And in just a moment, some of the onlookers have come to the man’s side. The others, clearly civilians, run in all directions, screaming.

“You’re a real bitch, you know?” The man with a bloody mouth says. 

“Oh is that the kind of impression I left? Glad I was memorable. Who’s lackey are you? Remind me?”

“Tch. Doesn’t matter. You’ll be face-to-face with him once we beat your sorry ass.” 

“Oooh I’m so scared.” 

“Shut up you bitch!!” I throw a punch at this annoying fool, right in the gut, my hand burning from the impact and my leg doing no better. Bad day to wear heels.  

The sorry excuse for a lackey goes flying before hitting the ground with a dull thud. Taking his place, another lackey from the crowd charges at me, and I’m able to take care of him. But there’s another - and if it weren’t for his timing, I’d have been hit. But he narrowly misses me. And that’s because the one I love steps in, punching the second lackey before he can reach me.

“Why’d you do that? I can handle this.” I say, a bit irritated at him. But I won’t lie, seeing him in action makes my heart pound - in a good way.

“A man who tries to beat a woman is not a man. That’s all.” He says, glaring the motherfucker down.

“This is my fight, not yours. Let me handle it-”

“I told you the same thing about a year ago. What was it you said to me?” He says, throwing a warm look at me from over his shoulder. With that I fall silent, remembering the love I feel for him in that moment a year ago. The same shattering fear of losing him. Of being without him. Wanting him to be okay in the end - it comes back tenfold. He gives me a soft smile before looking away from me, getting ready to fight;

“You don’t have to do this alone. I’m right here. Rely on me. Please.”

Before I know it, we’re taking out lackeys left and right, obliterating them. Rather, we should. At least one of us is an active agent with a severe training regime. 

Even with all that training

you’d think 

that I would consider every possible outcome. 

Good and bad. 

I finish up with the last pitiful excuse for a lackey when I turn around. I see the first guy coming back for another ass whooping with a sharp knife. I’m ready to take him on and disarm him the way I’ve been trained to do under certain circumstances, however, much to my horror, I see something I’ve never wanted to see since I realized how much he means to me. 

His silhouette flashes before me, his back encompassing my field of vision. I hear nothing. Feel the anguish and petrifying panic shock my nervous system. I feel faint. Like I could fall over at any minute. My hands are so pale, so cold, I forget what it means to be warm.

The only thing I see, the only thing I smell

is blood.

I’m ready to fall to my knees and scream his name but I can’t. I can’t stop now. I know I have to take out the last son-of-a-motherfucking-bitch-whore. And I wish it was the sight of his blood staining his back serving as the final thing that snapped me out of it. I wish it didn’t take me hearing his grunt and painful sighs to wake me up. I wish I would’ve sprung into action before he had the reflexes to jump in front of me like that. There’s so much I could wish for - but none of it will come true. Because the truth is I wasn’t fast enough. The truth remains that he got stabbed. And right now, all that matters is that I show the piece of motherfucking shit what happens when they go after someone so close to me. 

With tears stinging my eyes and blurring my vision I gather all my strength and run towards the fucker.

Fueled with a hundred fires burning in my core, distressed and angry and scared for his damn life, my movements are hastier and packed with more roaring fireballs than ever before. 

I catch the fucker’s wrist when he tries to stab me, and I twist it as hard as I motherfucking can.  

He screams in agony and tries to reach for his injured wrist with his other hand. And to that one, I merely said ‘hell fucking no’ before punching his uninjured arm’s elbow. My fingers were red and trembling, and they hurt like hell for all the punches I’d been throwing, but I can hardly feel any of the pain. Seeing the piece of shit in front of me writhe in excruciation serves as my anesthetic. You don’t get to be one of the Boss’s top agents by not working for it. 

Pathetic excuse for a lackey gets off easy. It wouldn’t do me any good to murder him (he’s not worth the effort anyway). While he’s distracted with what I’m sure must be the most excruciating pain of his life (I guarantee it is. This hurts more than a seventh grade breakup. More than pineapple on pizza. More than getting shot. I know this because I caused that pain. If this isn’t the worst pain he’s ever been in, I’m not doing my job - even though this is my fuckin day off. My anniversary with my boyfriend of all the damn days. And to top it off, the day after I get back home after not seeing him for an entire month. Fucker has some balls trying to mess with me today), I walk behind him and shove him to the ground. I put some pressure on his leg and ask him one simple question;

“Whose motherfucking lackey are you?”

“Screw you bitch.”

“Wrong answer.” I coldly spit out, putting more pressure on his leg. 

But I stop. I hear a painful sigh, and look up. He’s clutching his wound and walking towards me with a little glint in his eye. And in that moment I forget all about the fucker beneath me and I go over to him instead. 

“Stop walking - it looks like it’s really serious. You’re bleeding out and need-” I’m cut off by his lips on mine. My heart accelerates and it stops at the same time. My body tenses up and warm tears of relief stain my cheeks as I finally reciprocate the kiss. 

“Are you okay?” I ask him, looking deep into those eyes that see more than an agent. See more than a woman. They look past all I am and all I am not and see me for me. 

“Yes, it’s not that bad anyway.” He says, his voice strained.

“Liar. You’re bleeding out. You need help.” 

“No, I swear I’m fine. This is nothing. Besides, are you okay?”

“I’m not the one who’s stabbed, so yeah, I’d say I’m okay.” 

He chuckles a little before slightly grimacing.

“Okay, you need help. Now.” 

“Bet you I don’t.”

“That’s one bet you’d lose and another I wouldn’t ever want to take any chances on.”

“I love you - you’re incredible. I knew you were perfectly capable of taking those guys out on your own - and probably a hundred more - but wow.” 

I hit his shoulder a little bit before staring him down and scolding him;

“I appreciate your help, but I was trained for this. Or did you forget that part? I could’ve handled it much quicker and definitely painless by myself. Why did you jump in front of a knife like that?” 

“Because I didn’t want to lose you. I know you can handle yourself, but I wish you’d rely on me more. You’re not alone anymore. You have me. Or did you forget?”

“But what if I’d lost you?!” I scream, losing all control over my emotions, the reality of how close I could’ve come to losing him forever to the icy grip of death more than I can handle. “Did you think about that before you jumped in front of the fucking knife like that?! You damn idiot!”

He stays silent. All he does is let me sob against his chest. Though I try to be careful, as he was stabbed in the abdomen. He caresses my hair and holds me close. 

“I wasn’t thinking. He’d stabbed me before I knew I was in front of him. I’m so sorry I scared you like that.” He whispers against my hair, placing a gentle kiss atop my head. 

“Thank you for living.”

#masquerade kiss #mas kiss #Kazuomi Shido #kazuomi #kazu #yuzuru shiba #yuzuru #yuzu #boss #boss masquerade kiss #love 365 #voltage inc #stabby-stabby #help #i hope this is okay #oh my god #what did i create #why did i put this in the world

[yehet-me-up]

Mine

pairing: Minseok x reader (female)

rating: M - explicit sex, unprotected sex, mentions of violence

genre: undercover federal agents!AU, angst, smut

word count: 3,165

For @gingersaysjump - requesting either "Make me" or "You should be mine by now" for my Min, smut style. I peach emoji YOU TOO BISH 🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑🍑

‘We shouldn’t even be talking, Min. It’s dangerous. He could have this place bugged,’ you say harshly, desperate to get away.

Shoving your phone in your bag, you turn to him. The lighting in the apartment makes his eyes appear golden and you almost cave. But if you don’t leave now, you never will.

‘Y/N, come on.’ he implores, reaching for you. His carefully constructed facade of strength cracks. ‘Please don’t go there tonight. Say you’re sick, that you -’

‘You know what we both signed up for. Why do you suddenly care?’ The waver in your voice is a dangerous giveaway and you swallow it down, willing yourself to keep it together. 

Before you can let him talk you out of it, you turn and push through the door.

‘Stay out of the way and let me do my job,’ you yell over your shoulder.

‘Don’t walk away from me, I’m talking to -’ Minseok calls after you, the last word muffled by the door closing.

You ignore him, heart hammering in your chest, and continue striding down the black marble hallway. The sound of your heels echo in the expensive penthouse apartment. With a jam of your thumb you call the private elevator and wait, knowing he’ll catch up with you any second.

‘Come on, come on,’ you plead, hoping it will reach you before Minseok does.

The polished chrome of the doors reflects you back to yourself. The tight red dress barely reaches your mid-thigh, hugs your curves. The shoes cost more than what you paid for rent each month back in college. 

The sharp wing of your eyeliner, mussed waves of hair that spill across your shoulders, the scent of the cologne he bought you; all claim you as property a man you despise. A man who is not the man you love.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open silently. As they should. The apartment your boyfriend bought for you must have cost upwards of five hundred grand. The thought of it makes you feel sick. No part of your training prepared you for how it would feel to be so thoroughly owned by a mafia boss.

Your life isn’t your own, not until you and your partner get a confession, evidence, anything to prove that Jimmy De Luca murdered his brother Donny after he turned state’s witness. After eight months you feel like you’re about to break.

Minseok comes around the corner, striding into the elevator to stand next to you just as the doors close, radiating intensity and frustration.

Neither of you press a button and stand there, waiting. When you dart a look at him you see his hair has become even more undone. You can picture him standing in the apartment, running his fingers through it in frustration, or concern, after you’d left. It’s become impossible to read him.

The image makes you want to wrap your arms around his waist and press your face to his neck; to beg him to hold you and tell you it will be alright. That it will be over soon.

The ceiling of the private elevator is black and you look up at the tiny lights in the ceiling, dotted to look like stars. Neither of you can afford to be soft right now. If Jimmy realizes his girlfriend and his driver are both undercover FBI agents, you’ll be dead before you can blink.

‘Please don’t go to him tonight,’ Minseok hisses under his breath.

You turn to meet the heat in his eyes. ‘We both have to do our jobs,’ you start, staring him down. ‘You have to collect me and I have to... go to him.’

He opens his mouth to object and you reach a reckless hand to his shoulder, clutching the fabric. The motion brings you closer together, toe to toe. He brings a hand to your waist without seeming to notice. It settles on your lower back, hot and possessive.

‘We have to do it. No matter how much we don’t want to,’ you say softly.

Emotion blossoms in his features, raw and open. ‘I can’t take much more of Jimmy talking about how you’re his. How much he loves fucking you. It makes me sick, I -’

‘Me too, Min.’ Dread pools in your stomach. The tears and anguish you’ve suppressed for so long bubble to the surface.

‘I don’t know how much longer I can do this,’ you say, the truth escaping around the one person you know you can trust.

His breath ghosts along your lips, sensitive from long nights of biting them to hide your disgust at the man that the entire De Luca mob and all of the Chicago underground thinks you belong to.

Minseok leans into you, his other hand reaching to cup your head, so gently that you gasp. He walks you back so you rest against the wall of the elevator. With a noise of frustration he rests his forehead against yours and breathes as if he’s fighting himself.

‘You should be mine by now,’ he whispers against your lips, fragile enough that he sounds ready to break.

You watch him, hope roaring in your chest, washing away the acidic fear and disgust. Even though you love him, he’s never breathed a word to you about how he feels. Never let anything but concern and focus color his expression when he speaks to you.

It took you by surprise, the way you fell in love with Minseok. Your first big undercover op was supposed to be fast. Jimmy was known for bragging, for being careless. It was only the work of his lawyer that kept him out of jail in the past.

But instead, as the weeks turned into months, you and Minseok had forged an unbreakable bond over late nights strategizing, in the minutes when he’d pick you up to take you to Jimmy’s. 

Minseok’s eyes on you from across the room are the only thing that holds you together some nights at the club, when you’re forced to sit on Jimmy’s lap and tolerate his hands and his lips on you.

Even if he never said it, you know you’re the reason he stays sane, too. The way he returns after a shakedown, blood on his knuckles and a dead look in his eyes, always terrifies you. For months you’ve been there to steady him when he looks ready to come apart at the things this job has forced him to do, to become.

Somehow, against it all, you found love in a horrifying situation. Maybe he has too.

‘Min, I-’ you drop your purse to the elevator floor and cup his face in both your hands.

He searches your face, his brows pulling together. ‘Do you want me?’

You nod, fingers digging into the flesh of his neck, already pulling him closer. He makes a low noise that’s almost a growl of triumph and pulls you flush against him, claiming your lips with his. 

The way he kisses you is not gentle, pressing against you hard enough to bruise. The way you return his kiss is not gentle either, but just as rough and needy. Neither of you have it in you to be soft and patient tonight.

Months of being shaped and grated down into the kind of people who could survive this life have turned you both into people you’d never have imagined. His kiss is a baptism, a cleansing for all the things you’ve done that keep you up at night, the things you’ve done to cope.

In the field office, the first time you saw him you thought he was a bit of a nerd, but in a cute way. Answering all the captain’s questions a millisecond after he asked them, like a teacher’s pet. Boxy glasses, a bad haircut, even a pocket protector - you couldn’t imagine how he’d survive an undercover op. But then again, you’re sure you looked just as green and untested.

He groans against you, kneading the flesh of your hips with strong hands. Tonight he feels like the only real and solid thing you can hold onto. You pour everything you feel into his open mouth, desperate to shed the lies and find the forgotten truth of who you are.

You surrender to the moment like a forest surrenders to a wildfire - completely, knowing nothing will be left behind but ashes. With your lips you beg him to bring you back to yourself, to remind you what hope tastes like. To remind him in return that goodness exists.

Weeks of agony and desperation fall away as he holds your waist so tightly you want to crawl inside him and live, safe and protected, forever. Months disappear, sliding from your soul, as he traces your lip with his tongue, begging entrance into you.

You moan into his mouth, shuddering as his tongue strokes yours, clinging to him like he’s the life raft that will carry you through this nightmare. He slides a hand down to your thigh, pulling your leg along his waist and gripping the flesh of your ass. You feel his need against your core, as insistent and unquenchable as your own.

He pulls back and looks at you again. His eyes are wilder, his breath coming faster. ‘You should be mine by now,’ he repeats on a groan.

‘Make me,’ you plead, dipping your head to pull his lower lip between your teeth. ‘Jimmy owns my entire life. We have to finish this assignment, Min. But first, please give me this. Make me yours.’

He looks down at your heaving chest, at the way you look slotted against him - perfect, as if you were always meant to be there. ‘Are you sure?’

His hand slides along your thigh, towards your center, and your eyes fall closed with a sound of need. ‘Please.’

When you look back to him you can’t remember anything you’ve wanted as much as you want to be with someone like him. Someone who respects you and knows you down to your soul.

 ‘Yes, Minseok. Now. Tonight.’

‘Thank God,’ he says and recaptures your lips.

You work your mouth against his with equal hunger. If he’s going to take you tonight, you’re going to make sure you claim him, too.

He must feel the same about you. You know it when you kiss along his jaw, scraping your teeth along the spot where it joins his neck. You know it when you tug on the hair at his nape and he groans into your skin. You know it when you grind yourself against his length through his slacks and feel him shudder with need.

Suddenly, he drops to his knees, slowly kissing his way down your neck. Trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down into your cleavage. Ghosting his mouth along your stomach before lifting the edge of your dress and pressing his lips to the sensitive skin above your underwear.

You grip his hair to steady yourself, watching in fascination as he slides his hands up your bare legs, teasing the skin. When his fingers reach the edges of the fabric he waits for your permission to carry on. 

The warmth and kindness in his eyes is so starkly offset by the barely healed scar along his cheek, the bruises on his knuckles. You can’t help but love him, this complex man who is your partner and your equal.

After a beat you nod, desperate to feel him against all your most desperate places. He slides the fabric down and you step out, helping him.

‘Are you wet for me, love?’ he asks softly, drawing a hand upward to lightly work his thumb against your inner thigh.

You laugh, your first real one in days. ‘Why don’t you be a good detective and find out for yourself?’

He smirks up at you, his brow raising. And then he disappears beneath your dress. His free hand holds the material to your hip, firmly grounding you to the wall. With no preamble his tongue traces your slit, tasting the wetness of your arousal.

‘Oh fuck,’ you moan. 

Dropping your head back against the wall you stare up at the fake stars on the ceiling and allow yourself to imagine you’re free to love each other.

You reach out a hand and it hits the wall behind you, sliding down, slick with heat. The enclosed space feels like a sauna as he explores you, his agile tongue finding every spot except the one you most want him to.

He pulls back to look up at you, his cheeks pink with desire and his lips wet with your need. He shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it to the floor. You have half a mind to call him ‘the devil’ in jest as holds your gaze. But then he lifts a hand to cup your mound, massaging the flesh, and the words scatter from your mind.

‘If we had the time,’ he says darkly, standing, not moving his hand from you. ‘I’d take you somewhere where I could kiss every inch of you. I’d eat out this sweet pussy for hours until you were satiated. I’d work myself so hard and so deep in you that you’d feel nothing but me for weeks.’

‘But we only have tonight,’ he says against your ear, stepping close. ‘And I’ve got to make it count.’

He sinks a finger inside you and you gasp against him, clutching his arm. It feels like time has frozen, locked you in this moment. The stroking of his finger feels so good you can’t help the moans that fall from your lips.

Need courses along your skin, jagged and insistent. ‘It’s not enough, Min. I need you closer. I want you inside me, now.’

He nods and the floodgates open. Time slams back into motion and you reach for him.

You unbutton his belt while he works the digit inside you, faster. He adds a second finger and you clench around him, crying out. Once his belt is undone you work at his pants, undoing the button and sliding the zipper down, finger stroking along the press of his erection.

He grunts, pulling his hand from you and fitting his lips against yours. You shove his pants down as far as you’re able, whining with need against him. Before you have time to bemoan the loss of his fingers within you he’s lifted you onto the railing and shoved his pants and underwear down his legs.

Holding your gaze, he positions himself at your entrance. With one stroke he’s sheathed himself inside you, filling you to the hilt with a grunt. You gasp into his open mouth and tighten around him.

After a beat he moves, gripping your hips and slamming into you. Months of frustrating and boring sex with Jimmy and you’d forgotten how it feels to be filled, to be with someone who knows what they’re doing. He angles your hips down and every stroke of his length inside you brings him against your clit.

You cling to him, bringing your mouth to his exposed shoulder. Orgasm building fast at the base of your spine, you grip his arms, digging your nails into his clothed skin. 

After months of wanting to put your hands on him, you savor the opportunity. You reach inside the collar of his shirt and run your fingers down the column of his neck, slick with perspiration. You stroke his sides and explore his chest.

He teases the skin behind your ear with his breath, his lips, his tongue. While he buries himself inside you he captures the lobe of your ear with his teeth. The bite of it sends a shock to your core and you feel yourself open further for him, taking him even deeper. 

You ache to be consumed by him, to have him covering every inch of you and obliterating the fact that anyone else’s hands have ever known the way you feel.

Your attention narrows to the delicious friction of him inside you. How long have you been in this elevator? Minutes? Hours? Days? You couldn’t care less. Fuck the rest of the world except you and Minseok in this hot, black metal space. You dig your fingers into his hair and pull, drawing a groan from him.

‘I knew you’d feel perfect,’ he pants against your neck. ‘Shit.’

He slows his pace, pulling back to rest his forehead against yours and holding your focus. Every stroke of his is hard and deep now and you cry out, eyes closing from the intensity of it. 

He kneads the undersides of your thighs, willing you to stay with him. ‘I want to see you when you come around me,’ he demands. ‘I need you.’

Capsizing in need, in him, you force your eyes open. If he wasn’t holding you up you’d melt into the floor. You almost come instantly from the sight of him - chest exposed, shining with sweat. Eyes half-lidded and lip pulled between his teeth as he watches you take all of him, over and over.

‘Come with me,’ you plead, body already giving way to the heat and electricity blooming low inside you.

He nods and you drop a hand to your clit, swirling around the hypersensitive bud. His insistent, deep strokes send you over the edge and you clench around him as you come apart. He makes a noise that’s half a whine and half a growl as he bucks into you messily, finding his own climax.

When he stills you can’t help the grin that tugs at your lips. With a heavy hand you brush away the hair that clings to his forehead before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

He eases you down off the railing and slowly rubs feeling into your numb back and legs, surrounding you with care. Without words he puts you back together, kissing your cheeks, your mouth, your chin. For now, you are his and at the tenderness in his eyes you know that he is yours. 

He pulls you into a hug and sighs, tension draining out of him as he holds you.

For as long as you dare you allow yourself to rest in his arms, safe in the enclosure of his body and this space. He relaxes slowly, sinking into you and you smile as you feel his heartbeat slow and his breathing settle into a rhythm. 

But even perfect moments have to end at some point.

Your phone vibrates and you know who’s calling. You lift your head and see he’s staring at your purse as well.

‘Nothing’s changed. I’m still his, for now,’ you say softly.

He cups your face gently and presses a kiss to your lips. ‘Everything’s changed. You’re mine. As long as we both know that, the rest of the world doesn’t matter.’ 

The words are barely a whisper, but they reach straight to your heart.

#DRABBLEPALOOZA #xiumin x reader #minseok x reader #xiumin smut #minseok smut #exo smut #exo x reader #exo fanfic

[anthonyed]

soulmate au: where your soulmate’s name is written on your skin [part 3]

[part 1] [part 2]

One thing keeps running in his mind; Stevie’s out on a mission.

He’s red in face, damp hair clinging all over and the sheet beneath him is soaked in sweat. It has barely been half an hour since he laid down, and he didn’t at all mean to sleep. Sleep hasn’t been on his mind. Not, when he can survive without it.

But his body betrayed and dragged him down over that one line that he dreaded and now he has decades of pain bursting out of his pores with a sludge for a mind.

And Stevie is out on a mission.

Clenching his fists in a feeble attempt to contain his shaking, he sits up.

His eyes immediately go to that blinking red light in the ceiling's corner.

He’s been told that it’s some sort of surveillance camera. Not meant to spy but is there, dormant, to only intervene when something that necessitates intervention happens.

James wasn’t entirely convinced about it. But he’d just been invited to bunk in someone else’s home for free with free food and safety. He wasn’t entirely on the side to get fussy and complain about things.

Besides, he had Stevie.

Now in his absence, the paranoid is acting up. Suspicions climb higher walls and his skin is prickling with the need to rip that surveillance camera off its wall.

He’s sliding his fists beneath his thigh to keep himself from reaching for anything to encourage that vandalising thought when three steady knocks reverberated the bedroom door.

His senses shift focus, momentarily distracted by the red light overhead as they scream at what or who could be behind that door.

He bites hard on the inside of his lower lip, contemplating what to do – it’s his first time being without Stevie. Alone. When an entirely too familiar voice speaks up, “James, it’s me,” and all his senses go limp, almost purring in the overwhelming comfort it brings.

His feet tremble when they touch the floor and he has to reach for support to get some kind of bearing.

Outside, Anthony’s voice rises with worry. “James?”

And he wants to say he’s fine. That he’s alright and it’s just that – Just that. He just, cannot stand up.

But how embarrassing is that.

Then, Anthony says, “I’m coming in, okay.” And the sheer thought of his soulmate catching him in this pathetic state sends him sinking down in the mattress. Wet sheets curling uncomfortably around his palms as he supports himself upright and he bites down an ashamed groan.

What is wrong with him?

“Hey. Hey? Look at me.”

Brown eyes wide and earnest, demanding for his attention. And James gives. Unfractured. Because Anthony deserves everything, whole.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks. His too rough fingers skating across James’ stubble covered jaw and cheek as he cups his face in place and looks up at him. At only him. From his place, with his knees on his floor – when he should be tall. When James should be the one grovelling at his feet, because Anthony deserves more.

Because James isn’t whole.

He’s fragments of broken something. One of two pieces of them and he can never attached only those two and pretend to be complete.

He can never be complete.

That’s the sickening truth of his story.

But for Anthony, his soulmate, he grunts. Something akin to a positive response, to indicate that he’s alright.

Since his tongue is still stuck on the roof of his mouth from the shame that rattles his core and now he can’t even look into Anthony’s eyes.

The hands around his face doesn’t waver. The grip remains grounding yet gentle as the skin under his eyes prickle from looping circles being rubbed around it.

“Wanna watch a movie with me?”

“I remember my mother’s hot chocolate recipe and I maybe a few years too rusty but I’ll make it good.” Anthony whispers.

Their foreheads touching and James willingly leans into it. A short graze of skin on skin – up and down – is all the answer that he can manage for the question.

-

“I think we have all the ingredients for it...,” Anthony muses as they ride the elevator together. James silent by his side, but sufficiently calmed by the contact of their fingers intertwined together.

“You have everything you need, boss.” The blinking red light quips and James shoots it a suspicious look.

At his side, Tony hums in satisfaction, giving a tiny squeeze to James’ hand. “Thanks, baby girl.” He smiles upwards, eyes closed in serenity which puts a little smile on James’ face.

He never understood the red light. He knows that it’s capable of thinking by itself. A form of intelligence. An artificial one, according to Stevie.

Which, his soulmate brought to life. Something unfeasible at that time, but he proved everyone wrong. It makes James swell in pride.

But it doesn’t make him explicitly trust the product. Even if it was Anthony’s creation, James struggles with trusting in general and it’s simply, tough. What more when he cannot even begin to understand how it functions.

However, as long as it keeps making Anthony smile, James thinks, he can start somewhere with the trust.

-

In the communal floor, Anthony sets to work in the kitchen while James resists the urge to hang by the hem of his shirt and follow every footstep and sits at the dining table.

He lets his eyes follow instead.

From the stretch and flex and riding of material up tanned skin.

He watches Anthony work the stove, jittery on his feet as he hums under his breath and measures and mixes all the ingredients he gathered on the counter.

James lets his head fall on the table, cushioning it with the fold of his arms as his eyes slide half close. “I’m sorry about killing your parents.” He relieves that’s been on his mind for so long.

Something clatters onto the floor as Anthony comes to a sudden halt. A whisper of curse fleeting through the air before he picks up the utensil and runs it under the water, rinsing.

“I remember it without the weight of emotion. I’m not sure about how I exactly feel about it but I’m sorry.” He frowns at the stiffening of Anthony’s back. “I’m sure once I’ve figured out all the emotions and stuffs, I’ll be more sorry but for now -,”

“Doesn’t matter.” Anthony turns. The tight smiles on his face failing to match the wild haggardness in his sunken eyes.

James clenches his fists, the discomfort of his soulmate bearing down on his shoulders as he lifts his head up, straightening up in his seat. “It looks like it does.”

The utensil in Anthony’s grasp slips again and lands with another loud clang. Anthony closes his eyes, breathing out another swear word.

His entire body begins to tremble then. Which is probably why James stands up in autopilot, closing in to his soulmate, seeking and wanting to give comfort.

“I’m sorry.” He says, cupping Anthony’s cheeks and bringing their foreheads together. Inhaling the air in between their space.

He’s not sure what he’s apologizing for now.

Is it for his parents’ death or for putting Anthony in this tortured position?

He doesn’t know.

Either way, “I’m sorry.” He murmurs, stroking the apple of Anthony’s cheeks. Round and round in small circles, wishing his soulmate will let him in. Let him take care of him.

Make him feel better.

The front of his shirt is fisted and he’s pulled in closer as a small shudder of exhale fans across James’ face. Their cheeks meet as Anthony nuzzles into him. “I’m okay” He whispers back shakily. Circling James’ wrist with his fingers and rubbing at its pulse point with his thumb. “We’re okay. We’ll move on.” He nods against James, breath stuttering when he inhales and exhales.

It is then when something hisses and sizzles in the background and at once, Anthony pushes away in alarm.

“Shit. Shit. Shit. It’s boiling. Shit!”

James struggles a little to wrap his head around the sudden shove and panic. His fist clenching and unclenching at his sides minutely until a warm brush of skin skids pass, spreading calm through his artificial nerves.

Anthony’s still dancing around with nervous energy as he stirs the pot on the counter. Free hand reaching for the scattered ingredients and he mumbles consistently under his breath.

But with each millisecond pause in between cleaning and salvaging the beverage, he reaches out for James. Allowing tiny brushes of skin against metal and sometimes lingering, even in his distraction.

James heart swells dangerously in his chest.

-

They’re curled up on the couch after. When the hot chocolate is done and the television is playing something that Anthony thought James will find enjoyable but, all James can think about is the weight over half of his left side where his soulmate is curled into a ball.

“I forgot how bad the CGI was in the 90s” he murmurs. Completely unaware of what he’s doing to James.

Just by snuggling with his metal arm. Something that has been installed as a weapon for the winter soldier, to aid with his mission; in murders. And here he is – a ball of light, James’ personal haven - wrapped warm and soft around it like he doesn’t even care about the mass of sin lodged in between each silver plate.

James wants to shake him off. Shift him so he’s on the right. Not on the wrong side.

For Anthony is a whisper of purity wrapped around hell and that is not proper at all.

But hells likes the taste of heaven.

For all the cold that surrounds the metal, it thrives from the warmth and heat that Anthony willingly gives and James – He, aches for it.

It’s wrong, but it feels so right that he can’t keep his eyes and mind off of his soulmate.

“You don’t mind the arm?” He whispers over dark curls, lips brushing over soft strands which he leans into until his mouth’s pressed over them.

Anthony hums, leaning into him in return. “It’s a part of you.” He says easily. Like he’s never ever been bothered by it. Even once.

James struggles to breathe. “What are you doing to me?” He murmurs his thought out aloud, unbeknownst to himself.

The chatter from the television comes to a sudden stop. Two vertical line appearing stark white at the top left corner when James looks up. “What do you want me to do you?” Anthony asks, whisper soft, looking up at him.

James’ throat spasms shut, then opens and he swallows audibly. “Everything.” He breathes out honestly. Flesh fingers reaching to brush away the curls fallen over Anthony’s forehead and he follows his gut, pressing a kiss over the stretch of exposed skin.

Anthony shudders in his hold. “If I ask you out for dates?”

“I’ll say yes.”

“If I ask you to kiss me…,”

“I’ll say yes.” James answers without a hesitation.

Anthony closes his eyes and breathes. When he blinks open, a new kind of vulnerability is etched along those golden specks littered across his big brown eyes. “And if I ask you to stay.” He asks softly.

James tips his head up, holding his gaze, “Then I’ll stay.” He whispers faithfully. “But I can’t do all the others when you have Ms Potts.” He shakes his head, heart aching in his chest. “Not when you’re both engaged. It’s wrong.”

“What?” Anthony jerks away, peeling himself off of James’ side without warnings. “I’m not engaged –,” He protests before realization dawns upon him. “Have you been reading the gossip columns, James?” He squints at him.

“It was on the news.” James frowns at the where he’s still connected with Anthony; his left arm.

Anthony sinks back with a groan, head tipping backwards into James’ shoulder, his body back to pinning half of James’ like it had been before and James allows himself to breathe again, in relief at the weight of his soulmate.

Anthony curls all his metal fingers into a fist. “They lie.” He says, uncurling the trigger finger. “Rule number one on living in this century, snowflake, is to never trust the media as it is.” His thumb runs along James’ index absently.

James spreads out all his fingers and link them with his soulmates’. Half of him feeling nauseated looking at the way wrong envelopes all the rights in the world; evil intertwined with goodness, while the other half of him cannot help but be enthralled by it.

Anthony curls further into him, head tucking beneath James’ chin as he squeezes James’ hand, smiling dopily when he looks up at him. James stutters, “Wh- What’s the second rule?” He asks, drinking in their proximity – something warm coiling deep within his lower belly.

“The second rule -,” Anthony inhales shakily, his eyes fleeting downwards and James realizes where he’s looking at, his own gaze following Anthony’s lead, dropping to pink lips longingly. “The second rule,” Anthony repeats, much closer than he’s been before.

Too close. And James gives in to the thrill of wants pounding inside him, ducking his head, just a smidge away and –

“The second rule is you kiss me.” Anthony whispers, snapping the final thread between them. Blinking widely when he pulls back after just a peck, much to James’ frustration.

So he drops all his worries and doubts and presses his mouth over Anthony’s. Soft and slow at first then increasingly coaxing until they part and he swipes a hot tongue into the space between his soulmate’s mouth, licking in, getting a taste of him – just a tease, before he pulls away, smirking when Anthony follows, “And you kiss me back.” He brushes a thumb over the swell of Anthony’s bottom lip.

To his delight, his soulmate snorts, before giving into a fit of giggles, leaning into him – spreading warmth and happiness all over and James smiles endlessly, pressing his lips over the mess of curls tucked beneath his chin.

He’s wrong. He knows. He can never be complete. He’s aware.

But he has a soulmate who wants him for him – the way he is; broken and scared and covered in sins.

A soulmate who wants him to stay. And stay, James will. Until Anthony throws him away, James will stick by him, give him everything he has and makes sure nothing else matters over him.

#soulmate au #this is completely unnecessary but i started it anyway #this is for richieleeparker #whom idk if it's okay to tag so i'm mentioning you in the tag #aaaanyways #buckytony #reminds me of that soulmate winteriron fic i read that has soulmate identifying marks #fluff so much fluff ofc #i feel like bucky needs a standalone fic with friday just bonding and developing trust between them #in my mind it revolves in his room and whenever he's alone and wondering in the night and just glaring but not actually glaring at the #red light and watching how tony interact freely with it so one day he decided to give it a try; swimming between the urge to leap off the #roof (nothing suicidal. simply curiosity) and trying to distract himself; he asks what tony likes. what he dislikes. his fave food. colour #just everything about tony that he's too shy to ask and slowly it becomes about howling commando. then he asks about the 21st century slurs #what's urban dictionary. what do i do to irritate barton etc and eventually fri and bucky becomes partners in crime. fri knowing what #to do or play for him when bucky is in one of his mood and neither tony nor steve is avavailabe and before bucky realises #friday has become his second most closest person/not person - beating stevie even #winteriron

[lovehugsandcandy]

It’s Only a Game (Part 6)

A/N: This is completely AU now. Also, I am still heartbroken. In this universe, no one knew who the Brotherhood were and Colt and Ellie were the ones who tailed Kaneko to the factory for the drop in Chapter 8. I also thought that this was angsty when I started it, but nothing will ever top Chapter 13 in that department.

Pairing: Colt x MC

Rating: PG-13 (Swearing.)

Length: 3068 words

Summary: Everything falls apart.

Tags: @deimosensblog @alegria1580  @choicesarehard @thefarrari @client-327 @moonlit-girl-wonder @going-down-downtown @jolietmaraud @soniadotalves @flowerpowell @hazah

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This is only for fun.

Ellie tried to focus on the bolt in front of her but it was impossible. She had already made two mistakes on the car and really didn't want a third, but her brain was fuzzy. Toby was standing close by; he already had to save her when a pair of wires started smoking because she connected them incorrectly. He obviously didn't want to take any chances, which was smart, but Ellie's could not, would not focus. She desperately wanted to look away from the bolt, to peek, just one peek, but absolutely should not do it. This was the hardest test she had ever taken.

Two turns of the wrench left and, crap, she peeked. Colt was sitting on the floor next to his motorcycle, working on putting the parts together again, brow furrowed in concentration. Almost like he had the same problem, he glanced her way at the same time. She felt her cheeks redden and he winked at her, lips curving into a smirk. Her heart started beating faster and she could not wait for this evening to be over, for Logan to fall asleep, for her to sneak downstairs under the cover of darkness.

She didn't really understand it, when Riya and Darius started dating. Darius was all Riya could talk about or even think about; she had spent hours listening to every detail about their dates or his hair or their kisses. She attributed it to infatuation or hormones but oh, now she knew. She now knew that attraction and desire could be all encompassing and intoxicating and, even worse, she never wanted it to stop.

She managed to peel her eyes away from Colt and drop back down to the wrench. She could do this.

As she was settling back in to attack the bolt, there were three sharp knocks at the back door and it swung open. She heard a sharp intake of breath next to her and Toby dropped the screwdriver he had been holding, sound echoing around the now silent garage. She turned to the door and her heart dropped in her throat. Two LAPD uniforms were sauntering through the garage, leisurely looking around. She didn’t recognize them but stayed down, partially hidden behind the car; she knew that it was a bad sign that they walked right in.

Everyone else in the room seemed to be in shock. Colt stood up from his bike as Kaneko walked out from the office. They exchanged a tense look and Kaneko spoke first, calmly. “Hello, officers. Can we help you?”

The male officer nodded; big and burly, she could see the envelope in his hands. “Kaneko?”

Kaneko nodded. “That would be me.” He did not seem surprised by the sudden intrusion and continued calmly hobbling forward.

The officers shared a puzzled look, the female officer taking the envelope to squint at it. “Ah, no.....Colt Kaneko?” Ellie felt her heart drop and had to steady herself on the tire so she wouldn’t fall over. She felt Toby’s hand land on her arm, steadying her. They shared a terrified glance and she turned to Colt. His eyes were hard and she could see his jaw clench.

“Yeah?”

The officer nodded. “We’re going to need you to come with us.”

Colt raised his eyebrows. “Do you have a warrant?”

The officer handed over the envelope and Colt opened it, skimming the papers inside. Frowning, he put the papers back. “Can we do this outside?”

“Colt...” Kaneko widened his eyes.

Colt turned back. “It’s fine, Pop. It will be fine.” Ellie thought that she saw Colt’s eyes flicker to her but it was only a millisecond and then he and the officers were walking out the door.

The silence lasted for thirty seconds before Toby let out a loud “FUUUUUCK.” Everyone looked uneasily at each other.

Finally, Ximena spoke. “Boss? What do we do now?”

~~~~~

Apparently, the answer to that was clean. Kaneko had them cleaning the shop for hours and anything of...questionable legality was moved or destroyed. Ellie was physically and mentally exhausted; she could feel the blisters on her fingers and Logan’s bed, usually so comfortable, wasn’t soothing her sore muscles. However, she could not sleep. She knew, had known all along, that this was one of the hazards of this life. Not only did you need to avoid murderous gangs, but you also lived under constant threat of arrest. 

She got out of bed silently, making sure Logan was still breathing deeply, and walked the familiar steps to the shop floor. There, she wandered aimlessly. She knew in her head that Kaneko was right. He had to convince her that it was an awful idea to try to see Colt in jail. Rationally, she knew that it would be a mistake; she was just having a hard time convincing the rest of her to sit and wait.

Silent tears rolled down her face as she passed by Colt’s motorcycle, wiping her face as she remember Colt, eyes cold, walking away. 

Could she really do this? Now Colt and her dad were on opposite sides, completely opposite sides here, and she couldn’t possibly choose between them. She had this fantasy that everything would work out, maybe Colt would go straight, maybe the police really wouldn't care about the crew but, after today...

Maybe she was not only mourning Colt’s arrest but also the hope that she could thread the needle between her two lives and come out between them unscathed.

As she continued on her third lap of the floor, Kaneko walked out of his office. “Ellie.” 

She turned to him, eyes wide. She hadn’t known he was there but it made sense that he couldn’t sleep either. She wondered if he had prepared for this day, if he had prepared for the possibility of seeing his son led away in handcuffs. She wondered if he blamed himself for this, if he would send Colt away again.

She looked at him, silent, for so long that Kaneko sighed. “Come in.” He gestured back into the office and turned, slowly padding back through the door. Ellie followed, heart in her throat.

“Sit.” Kaneko had turned to some papers in front of him, jotting notes and numbers that she couldn’t read. “Trouble sleeping?”

She nodded, focused on the bags under his eyes. “You too?”

Kaneko looked at her, sharply. “He knew the risks.”

“Yeah....” Ellie trailed off, looking out the side window. The world was dark, the quiet weighing on her.

“He knew the risks and he knows what to do.” Kaneko caught her eyes. “You can’t do anything stupid. You can’t help him now.”

Ellie sighed. She really wasn’t planning on doing anything, she just... “I just feel so powerless.” Tears started to form, the tightness in her eyes a familiar ache now.

Kaneko dropped his pen on the deck and studied her. For a while. She felt herself wilting under his gaze and sat on her hands so she wouldn’t fidget. Finally, he nodded. “Come to my office. 6pm. Tomorrow. Exactly on time.”

She raised her eyebrows but didn’t question him; she felt like she was being dismissed from the principal’s office. Finally she nodded and turned to go. 

“Don’t be late.” He called after her, turning back to his work.

~~~~~

At exactly 5:59pm, Ellie stood outside Kaneko’s door and knocked. He quickly opened it and ushered her inside, closing it firmly behind her. Without a word, he turned back to his papers. Ellie hovered for a second, unsure of the protocol, then sat down across from him. A clock in the corner ticked. One minute went by. Two. Three. Finally, Kaneko broke his silence. “One more minute.”

Ellie watched, amazed, as, true to his word, sixty seconds went by and then his telephone rang.

“Hello.” Kaneko put his pen down and cradled the phone in his ear. She couldn’t hear who he was talking to.

“Any new information for me?” He nodded, frowning. The wrinkles on his forehead looked more pronounced. Maybe it was just the lighting in the office...but maybe Colt’s absence was hitting him as hard as it was her.

“There is someone here who wants to talk to you.” Kaneko turned to her and handed over the phone, going back to the paperwork.

Ellie took the receiver gingerly. “Hello?”

“Ellie?!?” Colt’s voice hit her like a wave of cold water and she felt tears spring to her eyes.

“Colt, are you ok? Oh my God, Colt.”

She could hear his sharp intake of breath, a slow exhale. “Ellie, I can’t really talk where I am.” It sounded slightly muffled, like he was covering his mouth. “I’m fine. How are you?”

“How do you think I am? What are they charging you with? Do you have bail? What’s going on?”

He sighed, slow to answer. “Ellie, it’s fine....don’t worry. I should be back in a couple days, ok?”

“Colt....” the tears had started to spill out of her eyes and onto her cheeks. She thought of how lucky she had been, when he was here, to be able to touch him, secret stolen moments that she thought would never end. Now, she ached to even see him.

“Ellie, I’m ok, I swear, but I can’t talk where I am. I only have a minute left, will you look out for my dad for me?”

“Of course...” 

“Ellie...” the phone was muffled again and he was whispering, hard to make out over the line, more breath than speech. “Ellie, I miss you.”

“Colt.....” The tears were falling fully now, she couldn’t stop them if she tried.

~~~~~

Colt laid, uncomfortably, on the thin mattress. His conversation with Ellie had thrown him and he couldn’t really afford not to be on his game. His dad had mentioned this possibility and he knew the general plan if something like this ever happened, but thinking about it and living it were two different things. It was hard not knowing what was happening at the shop, if Pop was staying safe, if Ellie was ok. He wondered if this was the straw that broke the camel’s back and whether she would even be there when he got out.

Colt sat up as keys came down the hall again. He could not afford to get distracted. “Kaneko?” He stood. He had been expecting this since he got here. His dad’s lawyer said that they could only keep him for three days without officially filing charges, but to expect multiple conversations, interrogations into his dad, the shop. Might as well get this over with. He would never give up his father, regardless of the offer on the table.

He was walked down the hall and into the interrogation room. After a wait, a long wait, an interminable wait designed to make him reconsider all his life choices, finally, the door opened.

Two detectives walked in, one clutching a folder overflowing papers and a couple of glasses of water. “Colt? I’m Detective Shaw and this is Detective Foley. Sorry about the wait.”

Colt nodded. So this was the Good Cop. “No worries.”

Good Cop sat down, pulling a picture from the folder. “Hopefully we can get this cleared up really quickly. We just need some help from you and then you can go on your way.” Colt raised his eyebrows and waited. “Do you know what this is?”

Colt looked at the car. “A Maranello.” Of course he knew what that car was. He had stolen it from the owner of the LA Badgers and Mona had driven it to a storage container off an East LA highway. “My Pop owns a garage.”

Good Cop nodded. “It was actually stolen last weekend.” Colt looked at him. Waited. Waited more. “We think you know something about it.” Waited. The only sound was the clock in the corner, dulling clicking away the seconds of Colt's life. “Can you tell us about it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Good Cop frowned. “Colt, you seem like a good kid. Made it into a good university. But your dad doesn’t exactly have your best interests in mind.”

“What does Pop have to do with this?” Colt sat as still as he could.

Bad Cop moved away from the wall, bending down in Colt’s face, arms huge on the table. “You know what your father has to do with this and you were in on it, kid. We’ve got you.”

Colt sighed, already bored. This looked so much more exciting on Law & Order. He tilted his head so he could look up at Bad Cop. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bad Cop started and pushed a chair over, the clatter loud in the small room. “Stop the bullshit, kid.”

“Foley, enough.” Good Cop put his hands up, placating him. “Colt, you have to know that your dad doesn’t exactly run his business on the up and up. Three cars were stolen from a charity event. We have witnesses who place you there.”

“I’m not big on charity,” Colt shrugged and slouched down in his chair.

Bad Cop pushed the table, aggressive. “You and your friends lifted the cars because your dad doesn’t care about you or your future or if you end up a pathetic punk ass like him."

“Ok, this is ridiculous.” Colt sat back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. “I’m done here.”

“You’re done when we say you’re done.” Bad Cop banged on the table, spilling the water cups, and Colt felt his heart stop. 

Drip.

The water, sliding across the table, had started to drip on the floor, echoing in the silent room.

Drip.

The anger came suddenly. Colt was no stranger to anger, to a fury that built in his blood and churned in his veins and grew and grew until his fists moved of their own accord. He knew anger but this, this....he had to take a breath, deeply, in through his nose. He couldn’t see the table, the detectives, he could see nothing but the red behind his eyes.

He knew that voice. He knew that fucking voice. 

Drip.

Colt knew he had to keep his cool. He knew he couldn’t ball his hands into fists and come up swinging until the anger had morphed into bruised knuckles. He knew he couldn’t stand and bash the detective, the dirty dirty cop, couldn’t pummel his face in until the anger in his blood had cooled.

Drip.

He bit his tongue, tasting the blood pooling in his mouth.  He needed to keep his temper in check. He bit down harder. More blood. Metallic in his mouth. 

That’s the fucker who hurt his dad. That motherfucking-

Drip.

He took a breath, then another. Swallowed the blood. Breathe in. Out. 

Drip.

Drip.

Slowly, he turned to face the cop, dead in the eyes. He looked at the detective, Foley, was it? He looked at his features, memorizing his eyes, nose, cheek, mouth. Stared him down. The roaring in his ears was starting to subside.

Finally, he smirked. “What’d you say?”

Colt couldn’t say what happened in the rest of the interrogation. The beginnings of a plan to hit The Brotherhood where it hurt were starting to form in his mind. And, in jail, he didn’t have much to do, other than think.

~~~~~

“That’s me.” He signed the property retrieval form and grabbed his things, quickly looking through his wallet to make sure he had some cash. Phone was dead, but that was probably a blessing. For the seventh time in the last hour, he played through his moves in his head as he walked through the precinct, dodging multiple uniforms in the busy entryway, trying to get out of this godforsaken place. However, at the door, steps from freedom, he paused; he could tell that eyes were on him. Eyes darting through the lobby, he caught sight of a small room, surrounded by glass, probably used for questioning suspects or delivering bad news. An older man stood standing, staring straight at him, glaring, face filled the typical hatred he had come to expect from cops. Colt paused, taking in the badge around his neck, arms folded across his chest. Maybe it was the lead detective on his case?  

After a quick double-take and a caustic salute, he stepped out the front door and blinked as he stepped into the sunlight, reorienting himself to the city. 

Time to move. He ducked into a convenience store for a water to break his hundred and then hopped the bus, seven stops. Ducked into a door that looked like it was made solely of graffiti and ducked out with a burner. Bus again, more stops, out of the city. He stared out the window and wondered how far his thirst for vengeance would take him. Based on the boil in his blood, pretty damn far.

Once he got to the beach, it was deserted. Quiet cliff, no one for miles. Perfect. He pulled out the burner and dialed a number he knew by heart.

“Hello.”

He waited, listening to his dad’s footsteps walk through the shop, waited until he heard the door shut behind him.

“You missed our call yesterday.” His father chided him, but it was without heat.

“I had some thinking to do. We have 20 minutes on this phone.” His father listened, actually listened, as Colt went through what he knew and the plan he had come up with. 

Once he finished, he heard his father sigh. “I’m not sure...”

“Do you have a better plan?”

Pop paused. “No. But how do you know who you can trust?”

Colt bit his lip. “...I have an idea.”

~~~~~

It took another bus ride, waiting for a connection, jumping on a new route, Jesus forever, and, finally, a short walk before he was in front of a squat house in a fairly nice neighborhood, a world away from Gramercy Park. He stopped to look around. A quiet road, well-maintained houses. He didn’t know what he expected.

Hands in his pockets, he made his way up to the door and knocked. Mere seconds later, he heard quick footsteps hurrying over; the door opened and he found himself looking into a familiar pair of very suspicious eyes. The two considered each other for a minute until, finally, Colt spoke, “I need help.”

The door opened wider and Colt stepped inside.

#colt kaneko #colt x mc #colt rod #playchoices fanfic #choices rod #amy writes

[cinaminho]

Stray Mafia: You get Snarky/Sassy with them

Uh ohhhh back again with a flop y'know

╰ Group: Straykids

╰ Genre: comedy

╰ Warnings: Language,, very mild violence ,, some are shorter than others,, not in order

Request:Hi can I please have a skz mafia scenario where you get into an argument and you say something really sassy like or snarky please 💓

BTW: in case you don't know their roles

Chan • Leader,, sets up every mission ,, plans everyone's position ,, always has a backup plan ,, prefers to use a bat//stick because people tend to underestimate those types of weapons,, Chan states "you just gotta know how to use them"

Changbin • Under boss ,, calls shots when Chan isn't present and is the head in negotiating ,, he's also a great sniper

Woojin • in charge of the cartel,, intelligent so you can't mess him over when it comes to supplies,, hand gun/knife/sword master

Minho • Head Spy ,, good in undercover missions,, Teams best non weapon fighter,, great with making poisons (thank you Yuta)

Hyunjin • Weapon suppliier ,, knows how to get military weapons because of connections,, underestimated because he looks innocent,, knows how to use 98% of weapons made

Felix • the interrogator,, his deep voice is intimidating ,, isn't afraid to torture you if he has to just to get the info that is needed

Jisung • Hacker,, tech prince,, might be able to get secrets from the Pentagon to be honest,, hacking skills are as faster than sending and retrieving a text,, he's also good at kidnapping enemies so they can be interrogated

-

Plot - Your Dark World Lover has hit below the bit or caused irritation to you so you get back him the best way you know how which is by being cunning with your words and snappy attitude.

/// .•°*♡

- - -

{ Chan }

"You walk around so high and mighty because you're a leader of your own mafia now which is ironic to me considering your brain isn't even half the size of the bullets you use I bet!"

You spat at your significant other as his back was turned to you, he had cancelled your date night again because of underworld business, he just blew you off without even trying to Reassure you that you could reschedule. Your tone caught his attention as he froze in the middle of tying his Neck tie . He spun slowly on the heels of his dress shoes to you, his normal smile gracing his face as his shoes clicked on the marbel floor your stood your ground crossing one foot infront of the other along with your arms. Once Chan was infront of you he teasingly Bent down to be eye level with you. He grazed his finger under your chin.

"Because I think you're on your monthly, I'll take your snappy attitude that is however the only time I will except it." He spoke before cupping the back of your neck and slowly leaning his lips to your ear.

"There are limits to my patience remember that, My dear."

{Woojin}

He was not having it clearly you must've forgot just how rude Woojin could get so when you gave him a slick remark due to him saying you needed to clean up more which you had , the place was spotless, Woojin was just a neat freak, you figured he was just in a bitch mood.

"Look Y/n just clean up." He frustratedly ordered once more.

"Clean up what Woojin? You know actually tell you what, how 'bout for once YOU clean, start with that dumb ass attitude." You exclaimed.

Woojin looked as if you'd gone mad his before you knew it he was slightly leaning over you as he stood over you who sat on the couch his hands were gripping the Arms of the couch to support himself lightly hovering over you. You were screaming silently, your skin grew hotter as your nerves heightened.

"Don't think I won't lock you away to set you right little girl..You ever talk to me like that again and I'll have you afraid to even speak greetings to anyone."

{Changbin}

You. Fucked. Up. Completely.

Now be no fool, Changbin loved you now that it was known it wouldn't change and as a loving couple of course you two would get into little spats naturally but this one was more heated, words of furious lovers were being threw back and forth, Fury gazes, neither willing to admit defeat, you really were blindsided by your anger you didn't notice until you'd said it, you just had to poke the bear though, right?

"Don't be a bitch okay?" You sarcastically stated.

"The phrase 'it takes one to no one' doesn't nearly fit enough in this situation." He responded matching your clearly sarcasm, you flickered from crazy to insane just like that before you knew it you were attempting to slap him. He grabbed your hand.

You looked between him and the hand that was in his grasp, his face scrunched in a murderous form, evident heavy breathing came from you both, one fear , one livid anger. His teeth were clenched so tightly you were they may break. Soon after silence and anticipation came his next actions. The base of his thumb pressed painfully deep into the palm of your hand adding a bit of his nail as well , you winced loudly as your knees became weak collapsing under you , so , down you went. He wasn't letting up either as he stared at your tortured pained face.

"Mark my words and God as your witness you're clearly out of your Damn mind if you're raising your hand at me, you will only be able to use your feet and mouth to feed you if you pull this bullshit Ever again. I promise."

{Minho}

"Of all the Days in the world you choose the today to go on a mission WHICH MAY I ADD,, you excepted behind my back you selfish son of a--"

"~Easyy there baby tiger, your anger is a weapon while the words are the ammunition." He Cheshirely grinned. Your gaze narrowed you in all honest felt a vain about to pop out of your neck from restraining your urge to strangle him.

"You're a Dick." You said through gritted teeth

Minho's mouth dropped open, he was at a loss for words, soon that changed once he Laughed, he seemigly and genuinely found you hilarious his adorable gummy smile filled with mischief was show cased as he doubled over laughing at you.

Minho glided towards you with his hands behind his back you held your head up high prepared for whatever it was that he has to say, or at least you hoped you were.

His face looked over yours carefully trying to call your bluff. He tilted his head to the side letting out a cute cackle. You hated when he didn't take you seriously.

"You really are the cutest thing when you try to snap back at me, good try , same time tomorrow?" He suggested before walking away leaving you to silently scold yourself. One of these days you'd get under his skin enough.

{Hyunjin}

"So you can locate Foreign weapons but can't locate the dairy aisle in a store? Remarkable."

He was showing some of the latest weapons that he obtained and allowed you to come along you wanted to tease and have a little fun but really you didn't choose the best time to try and make a joke out of him, on purpose of course. He'd had just about enough of your playful banter shenanigans . He excused himself from the group of men who also didn't find your humor amusing to talk to you.

"Y/n I don't think now Is the time to joke." He spoke flatly.

"I'm just joking lighten up."

Hyunjin looked towards the men who were paying attention to his high profile weapon shelf before he turned back to you, he snaked his hand through your hair giving you a soft smile. His soft touch soon became rough as he fisted some of your hair slightly bringing his face inches closer to yours.

"Do I look like I care that you're joking? Now Is not the time to joke I said."

He yanked his hand away from your head , your hand soon reaching to sooth the burn from where he'd pulled it, you were flabbergasted.

{Jisung}

You were literally talking to your friend about him while he was in the next room, he'd asked that you didn't speak about him to your friends for safety purposes , however, you thought he was just overreacting. Seriously what harm could it do? You were going to find out as you paid the price for ignoring his request or your phone would at least.

"This is my Last time requesting this, Y/n, please do not discuss me with your friends." He huffed puffing his cheeks out. You thought he was cute but the reddned hue on his cheeks indicated he was losing his patience. His fist balled at his sides, nails digging in the skin of his own palms.

"Jisung stop being a drama queen." You snickered.

Jisung's eye twitched slightly. "Drama Queen? , noted." He smirked. Before you knew it he Walt's over to you snatching the phone from your grasp not giving you time to question his actions before he savagely smashed it to the ground with a frustrated growl.

You let out a squeak as you stared at the broken electronic devise. Jisung smiled at his dilberate work.

"Oh, and if you ever call me a drama Queen again. There is way more where that came from, m'kay Pumpkin?" He stated before patting your head and walking away.

{Felix}

You were in the middle of a heated discussion and honestly you weren't listening because there was no way in hell you were postponing your wedding because his 'business' could get in the way of that. His words were going in one ear and out of the other.

"Honestly you're wasting not only your words on a useless excuse and my time. For someone who claims to be intelligent you sure sound like a numbskull right now."

Your words were like poisoned darts. You began to exit the room but Felix to big steps to soon be infront of you blocking your exit. He gripped your lower jaw snitching it in his so you had no other choice but to look at him as his grip gradually tightened if you tried to look away, you had to face the demon.

"Don't even think of insulting my intelligence! and This conversation is far from over. So pull up a seat. Shut up and listen , close your mouth for a millisecond. I'm postponing the wedding because the location may be compromised, if you'd just open your ears you'd know that I've stated that ,bridezilla ,know my reasoning behind my actions before you speak." He firmly demanded.

You were completely loss for words you couldn't find your voice so you kept your lips sealed. Felix smugly smirked at your expression.

"You've got something on your face." He declared squinting over your features.

"Ahh that's what it is. The look of pure stupidity." He said matter of factly .

#stray kids #bang chan #kim woojin #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #stray kids scenerios #stray mafia #stray kids fluff #mafia au #stray kids au #stray kids angst #kpop #kpop scenerios #kpop multifandom #kpop fanfiction #fanfiction #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids felix #stray kids woojin #stray kids chris #stray kids lee know #stray kids jisung #stray kids changbin

[castillo-adrian]

Franz Ferdinand | Closed.

Note: Important to the St. Clair VS Rutherford conflict. Featuring @lin-melissa @johnathanparsons @divyakoshal 

I.

Dissatisfied by Adrian’s performance at the end of the 6ème grade, Madame Vallereau, his English teacher, gave him Agatha Christie books for a summer reading. The most effective way to brush up his English skills, she thought, and wasn’t wrong.

‘Murder on the Links,’ one of the novels that Adrian read that summer, opened with an anecdote.

“A young writer, determined to make the commencement of his story forcible and original enough to catch and rivet the attention of the most blasé of editors, penned the following sentence: “‘Hell!’ said the Duchess.”

Sitting across the glossy hardwood table in Johnathan Parsons’ office, an entertained smile painted Adrian’s features, as he’d be reminded of that exact line upon witnessing the man slam his fist in an angry fashion.

“Hell!” said the boss, “They made a grave mistake. Attempting to dip their dirty toes in Westminster, of all places? Well, I’m going to cut them off one by one.”

The man’s wrath had been justified. The borough of Westminster was a Rutherford stronghold. The French attempting to buy a property with the intention to build a club and push their drug trade was... bold to say the least. Johnathan had eyes and ears in every nook and cranny of this part of the city (and pretty much the rest of it, too) and he’d been informed of the news long before the French would have enough time to seal the deal.

Johnathan’s solution was simple: chop up the poor fucker who agreed to sell his property and deliver his body parts to the doorstep of Marine Charif, the commandant of Camden, the one behind the scheme.

“I want the bitch to remember to stay in her fucking lane,” Johnathan growled.

“If I may propose an alternative,” Adrian spoke softly and leaned in towards the table.

Melissa gave him a curious look. It was enough for Adrian to continue.

“Let them –”

“What on Earth are you talking about, Castillo?” Johnathan cut him off, “you’re not feeling nostalgic, are you?”

“Johnathan,” Melissa intervened, “let him finish.”

Brushing off the annoying inclinations of Johnathan’s question, Adrian proceeded.

“Let them buy the property, invest their money, build the club, bring in the shipment, you know, the whole deal and then, right before the opening, burn it to the ashes. And we don’t kill the owner, we kill the commandant. Stronger message.”

“Damn, Castillo,” Johnathan sunk back into his leather chair and took a sip of his whiskey, “Not bad, in theory, but the French will be guarding the place like rabid dogs as soon as the sale goes through. You won’t be able to get in without opening a massive fire and we do not want to turn our turf into a battle zone. Especially Westminster.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Adrian’s smile hinted at something Machiavellian, “I’m sure we have people at the City Hall who’d be more than eager to give us the blueprints of the club, once submitted, and call an inspection. The French won’t bother moving drugs, just hide it somewhere inside the club. They’ll just have to clear out the building for a few hours. Enough time to plant the explosives.”

Johnathan and Melissa exchanged glances. After a few minutes of consideration, the boss spoke.

“Adrian’s plan does sound more sustainable in the long run, unless we’re killing every business owner who is considering to sell to the French,” Melissa raised an eyebrow, “I’d rather we drum up the French death toll, than the local.”

“This is a huge risk, however. If your stint doesn’t work, we’re going to have to open fire on our territory, which is not part of my plan. Are you sure you can pull this off?” Johnathan inquired.

“I am, yes,” Adrian nodded firmly.

“Remember, you will be the one to pay the price, if it doesn’t.”

Had he not been confident in his abilities, Adrian would’ve backed out right then and there. After all, what kind of fool with no sense of self-preservation would risk being at the receiving end of Johnathan Parsons’ fury?

II.

Adrian Castillo stood on top of the roof with a majestic content. The events had transpired the way he had planned, and they all led to this particular night. In a few short minutes, Marine Charif, the infamous commandant would join her friends and soldiers in a for French only, pre-celebration get-together, before the actual opening night.

How to shoot your target 500 yards away?

With math and physics. Neither an exceptionally skilled sniper, nor an excellent piece of machinery was enough to pull it off with success, and Adrian was one and held one. Luckily, he had enough basic STEM knowledge, too, the courtesy of his training as a GIGN sniper.

As soon as the bullet leaves the barrel, it’s influenced by two basic forces: gravity and drag. The fraction of a millisecond prior to the bullet exiting, it’s been under one single, fairly significant force: the pressure of the expanding gasses of the powder charge behind the bullet. As soon as that gas can escape the barrel, acceleration stops, and deceleration due to drag takes over, as does gravity once the bullet is no longer supported on all sides by the rifle barrel.

Even if he took gravity and drag into consideration, he had to account for velocity, trigonometry, wind direction, and optics. The rifle, set up hours beforehand, was sitting at the edge of the roof, with Adrian behind it.

“…Roger that. We’re in the position,” spoke Divya through comms, “waiting for your signal.”

The group of people led by Divya was partly made up with the newest recruits of Rutherford organisation, hand-picked solely for this mission. They were to mix with the club staff and lock down all the exits once Adrian had executed his kill. The other part though, the more experienced ones, were on a stand-by, to gun down any escapees with silenced pistols and dump their bodies on the French territory.

They’d planted the bombs two days prior, when the city hall demanded an inspection upon Rutherford orders and their loyalists, dressed up as the crew, hid explosives in ten different spots inside the club.

“Stand by,” responded Adrian to Divya. Introducing them to the basic military lingo was one of the first things Adrian had done during the training. Discipline and precision were key to pulling off the mission and he had no intention to leave any room for error.

Three minutes later, there was a sound of a car pulling up at the parking lot and clicking of boots on the concrete.

When the woman neared Adrian’s shooting range and he saw her face, there was a millisecond of hesitation.

He had studied her photographs whilst planning the attack, but now, seeing her in flash, it all came back to him - the reason why her name had sounded so damn familiar.

Marine Charif was introduced to the French Organisation ten years ago, by Laure. He could remember it all so vividly now: Laure walking into the room, with young Marine in tow, announcing to him, Julien and Évelyne that her cousin from Marseille had joined the St. Clair ranks.

But the millisecond was not enough to intervene with the kill.

Almost as soon as his .223 Remington, 69–80-grain bullets left the rifle and tore through Marine’s temple and into her skull, Adrian gave a command.

“Engage.”

The team had worked like a well-geared machine.

It all happened simultaneously.

Marine’s blood spattering all over the parking lot.

One of Divya’s man dragging her body out.

Rutherford loyalists locking down every possible exit from the building.

Divya pushing her thumb into the detonator.

The club lighting up the London skyline like the parade of fireworks.

The sound was deafening. The flames exploded in a mini-supernova, turning everyone and everything inside the club – the people, the expensive equipment, the furniture, the insane amounts of cocaine, into a gruesome pile of pieces of human flesh, wood, and metal, scattered like a jigsaw puzzle. And above all that, the grey powder of ash started to descend and add a monochromatic layer, like fallen snow on a forgotten city.

III.

The firefighter John Coyle shook his head in disbelief.

“This is clearly not a gas leak.”

“Don’t be a fucking hero, mate, and take the money. God knows you could use it,” his co-worker of seven years patted him on the back, “and so could I. Tara is starting school this year.”

“There are more than thirty people burnt to the crisp, man, thirty.”

“Listen, it’s already been written off as a gas leak, give it a rest. Besides,” he leaned in closer to whisper, “I heard they were some drug dealing French criminals, I say, London is better off.”

“God’s sakes, they were people.”

With those simple words, John Coyle had turned himself into a loose end. Unfortunately for him, Rutherfords didn’t leave those alive. He was no exception, as he’d soon find out, standing behind a gun pointed at him by one of Adrian’s people, and drawing his last breath before the trigger was pulled.

IV.

The reason why Adrian was holding a glass of scotch in his hand was to celebrate a successful job, not the fact that he had just sent more than three dozen people to meet their maker.

Johnathan and Melissa, though, they were glad no St. Clair loyalist would venture to make a move on Westminster for a long time.

“Marine was a commandant. Her assassination will trigger a chain of events,” Adrian pointed out the obvious.

“Exactly the point. And this? This was just an opening act to the big event,” Johnathan smirked and poured another glass. “Wait until you hear who your next target is. Let’s say the hotel launch will be even more memorable for the French than we’d initially planned.”

Adrian had already been wrapping up his preparations for the upcoming attack on Amir Dawar’s new hotel opening night, and the news of an unknown variable thrown into the equation drew all of his attention.

“A special guest from across the pond,” Melissa sat in a chair and crossed her leg.

IV.

The next day Marine Charif’s body would be found nailed to a metal plaque that read “The City of Westminster,” in a trash bin outside her Camden house.

And trash was exactly where dead rats belonged.

#this is huge but no read more because it will be impossible to read #Also the title is the hint ;) for fellow history nerds #Selfpara

[jungk0oksthighs]

17 | You’ll Never Walk Alone

BTS + GOT7 X READER [GANG!AU]

WORD COUNT: 5,062

series warnings: mature themes, strong language, violence, substance abuse, eventual smut. this chapter contains graphic content such as violence, blood, gore, injury description, dead bodies, grief and death, angst, sadness & strong language

masterlist | ask | prev 

Was it possible to love two people at once? You couldn’t bare to lose either of them, you loved them both dearly with all your heart and soul and there wasn’t an ounce of doubt in your mind about it. Seeing two of the strongest men you’d ever known in your life so defenceless, so vulnerable, it was killing you.

Everything happened so fast you couldn’t help but scream at the top of your lungs, your vocal chords tearing into a thousand pieces as an indescribable grief washed over you completely. One gunshot was fired, which meant that only one man survived.

One was dead.

“No! Please, no!” You shrieked, voice trembling with adrenaline as you violently fought against the tight restraints. “NO!” A painful scream tore from your throat as white hot tears spilled from your eyes, cascading down your cheeks like an endless sea of grief.

He was dead, he was really dead. One of the two great loves of your life killed right in front of you, milliseconds after he’d taken his final breath with his eyes fixed solely on you. Watching the life escape him as death claimed his body was more painful than any injury you’d ever sustained, it hurt more than a few broken ribs ever did, more than a gunshot to the leg ever would, the agony you were in was truly indescribable. You’d never felt so useless and broken in your entire life.

With all the strength you could muster you ripped your hands out of the thick rope, burning your skin in the process, but you were too caught up in the moment to care. Fuelled by anguish you stood from the chair and charged over to Hoseok, forcefully ripping the gun from his surprised hand as your gaze settled on his sickeningly sinister smirk, deliberately avoiding the lifeless body nearby. You knew the others were shouting, you could hear their voices in the back of your mind but you ignored them, you pushed them away and decided to end this once and for all.

“Do it.” Hoseok giggled, prompting you to pin the gun to the side of his head. Your hands were shaking, your eyes cloudy with tears and your heart heavy in your chest as he continued to taunt you some more. You walked him over to the nearest wall, slamming his back against it as your fingertip flirted with the idea of pulling the trigger. “All that training and you still don’t have an ounce of fight in you, pity.”

“Shut up, shut the fuck up!” You screamed, digging the gun into his skin hard enough to draw blood, but not once did he wince in pain. By far this was the biggest moment of your life, and your crazed determination didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Should I shoot her?” You heard Yoongi’s voice in the distance, too concentrated on the man in front of you to care about what one of his rats had to say. “Boss?”

“No no, she won’t kill me…she doesn’t have it in her.” Hoseok chuckled, cocking his head to one side, mocking you with an expectant expression. “You have the same look on your face your mother did when I watched my father murder her.”

“What?” You frowned, “You’re lying!” You spat, body shaking with an unholy cocktail of hurt and rage. “My parents died in a—“

“In whatever event Jimin wanted you to believe. Sweetheart, don’t play dumb with me now, you’re a smart girl. You’ve always known there was more to the story. I could sense it…” He rolled his eyes, bored. “All I ever wanted to do was finish what my father started and get rid of your family.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?! What are you talking about?!” Your emotions were all over the place, a blur of fury and sadness rippling through your bloodstream with every second he held your gaze.

Hoseok sighed, his face amused as he stared down at you with fierce eyes, darker and icier than usual. “You look just like her.”

“Shut up, shut up! You don’t know anything about—“

“Just shoot him! He’s playing games with you, he’s trying to hurt you!” You heard a familiar voice shout from behind, reminding you of what was truly important. All the people you’d lost, the battles they’d fought, every single decision you’d ever made bubbled down to this moment, this sickeningly bitter and twisted moment. “Y/N, SHOOT HIM!”

Without hesitation you pulled the trigger and shot the first bullet into Hoseok’s skull, blood sprayed your face but it only made you feel more powerful, in a warped, surprisingly addictive way. You came to Seoul a naive girl who knew nothing of this world, and now, as you watched the man who had caused you so much pain fall to the ground, you felt like you were a true member of Park Enterprises.

“That was for me.” You hissed, feeling nothing but numbness as blood pooled his face on the floor. Aiming the gun carefully you fired again, your chest heaving with each ragged breath you took as the second bullet disappeared into his left eye and more blood oozed from the wound.

“That was for my brother.” Hot salty tears were flowing down your face as you shot his lifeless figure again, and again, and again, and again, and again. With every shot his body jolted and spasmed, you were too caught up in the moment to register the faint shuffling sounds coming from behind. 

“That was for Jin, for Minho, for Yugyeom, for Jaebum, for Bambam—“

It still wasn’t enough, you crouched down, body so close to his that you could smell the stench of death and justice pouring from his frame. Everything was quiet as you glared at the man before you, the colour already draining from his skin. Pressing the gun hard to his chest, hard enough to bruise, you started crying, barely able to find the right words.

“And this is for Jungkook.”

The final bullet pierced his body and you slowly brought yourself to your feet, turning on your heel to find that Yoongi had disappeared, leaving you alone with Jungkook’s body bound to a chair and Taehyung, who was thankfully still alive and staring right at you. The bodies of Mark and Hoseok faded into the background, your eyes only focussing on what mattered. You stood opposite Taehyung in complete silence, his long feline-like eyes soft and apologetic and his plump lips ajar before you finally found the strength to break his gaze and walk over to Jungkook.

Sinking to your knees you brushed the damp hair away from his face, your stomach churning upon seeing the bullet wound in the middle of his forehead. Your hands were stained with his blood, his long eyelashes kissed the highest points of his cheekbones and his soft lips were delicately parted. Despite having just been murdered in cold blood he looked so peaceful, you noticed, probably the calmest you’d ever seen him. He seemed angelic almost, beautiful in both life and death. Torturing yourself you brought your fingers down to his neck, a lump forming in your throat as the lack of pulse fully registered with you.

Less than a mere 24 hours prior you’d finally accepted him, finally given into the temptation of loving somebody so dangerous, of being with someone who would inevitably leave. It was almost ironic how short your time was together, in comparison to the length of time he had tried and tried to win you over. Hoseok killed him in front of you, you saw the bullet end his life there and then, the deafening bang of the gunshot was the loudest you’d ever heard, and it would haunt you for the rest of your life.

You couldn’t catch the sobs that escaped you in time, your whole physique shaking as an overwhelming nausea captivated you. He was gone. You didn’t realise you were screaming until Taehyung scooped you up in his arms with a gentle mumble that sounded something like, ‘shh, it’s okay, I’ve got you, it’s okay’. You shrieked into the crook of his neck, gripping the fabric of his clothes with tight shaky fists, your eyes, your head and your heart in absolute agony as you processed everything that had happened.

Yoongi was still out there, lurking in the shadows. Jimin was dead, Jungkook was dead, everyone was dead…the only person still alive who cared about you was Taehyung, in fact, the only survivor of Park Enterprises was Taehyung. It was just you and him now, you and him against the rest of the world. The thought alone scared you beyond belief, you’d spent your whole life following orders and lusting for freedom, and now it was yours you didn’t know what to do with it.

“We need to go...” Taehyung whispered, planting a delicate kiss to your temple as you sobbed mercilessly, slowly nodding in agreement as he pulled you to your feet. “Take my gun and keys, go unlock the car...but don’t go in the trunk. I’ll uh-, I’ll be right there with, with—”

“Jungkook’s body.” You cut in with a trembling sigh, watching Taehyung’s brow tighten and his eyes glaze over with tears. 

“I’m sorry Y/N.” 

2 Weeks Later

The camera flashes were blinding, the voices deafening as you composed yourself, taking a few unsteady breaths before you opened your eyes. Normally Jimin dealt with the press conferences, you’d never had a part of anything to do with this which heightened your nerves even more. There were so many people, just staring at you with intense expectant gazes, emotionless beings waiting for answers to questions that had been circulating the media for weeks.

“Hello…” You nodded once, eyes flitting between the crowd in front and Taehyung who stood tall beside you. He knew you were nervous, it’s all you’d spoken about with him for the past two days, which is why his hand gently squeezed yours behind the podium away from prying eyes.

“As I’m sure you’re all aware, due to recent events there has been some major changes within Park Enterprises; the biggest one being the fact that most of our staff members and the business owner himself, my brother Jimin, are no longer with us.” The lump in the back of your throat threatened to choke you, but you willed it away for the sake of getting this over and done with. Not only for your own sake, but you had to do this for Jimin too. 

“One of our business competitors took it upon themselves to try and completely eliminate us from the industry, in the hopes of taking everything my brother rightfully owned. The situation was dealt with accordingly and the mastermind behind the murders of our employees and beloved family members is where he belongs. At this time I want to ask the people of Seoul to let us grieve, therefore I will not be taking questions regarding details of their passing. It is a tragedy in it’s own right and I do not wish to discuss it further.”

“As the only heir to Park Enterprises I can tell you after careful consideration I will not be selling the business, instead I will be running it. My brother worked from the ground up to become as established and successful as he was, so to honour his memory the business name will be changing from Park Enterprises, to Park Jimin Organisation, PJO for short. As for leadership of the company, currently it’s just me and my assistant, Taehyung, who are handling things, but as time progresses and I feel more comfortable within my role I would like to recruit others too.”

“And finally, I would like to announce that I am opening several hospital wings in memory of those who we have lost. I will be opening and funding all of the wards myself, and ensuring that the world’s finest medical professionals work there. Firstly, the Park Jimin ward, will be specially catered for blind or visually impaired hospital patients who may have different, or more specific needs. They will have access to a full Braille library, as well as round-the-clock care and supervision.”

“Secondly, the Kim Seokjin ward, designed specifically for children and paediatric care. I have also designed a fun area for the children to socialise in, this area will cater for every single child well enough to leave their bed, regardless of their condition. The name of this area will be the Mina Play Room, and it will sit directly in the heart of the Kim Seokjin children’s ward.”

“The Kim Minho ward, will be an intensive care unit for patients in need of intensive therapies, treatments and medicine. I can confirm that three of the best specifically trained ICU nurses from the biggest hospital in England have agreed to work on this ward, I have full faith that their growing team will be able to take on anything thrown at them.”

“Next, the Kim Yugyeom ward, will be the biggest emergency room in all of Seoul. It will provide immediate medical services to those who arrive, without needing to book an appointment.”

“And finally…the Jeon Jungkook ward will be a cardiology department, with the world’s finest heart specialists working there to assess, and fix broken hearts.”

The lump in your neck came back with vengeance, trying to sabotage your speech before you’d even finished. Swallowing thickly you managed to blink back the tears threatening to escape, all while Taehyung stayed by your side, his large hand covering yours. You had to wrap up the press conference, but you were so scared to open your mouth in case your voice trembled and betrayed you. Thankfully the people were patient as they waited for you to continue, some women on the front row tearing up at the sight, and realisation of how much you had truly lost.

“I would greatly appreciate it if you would give us our privacy at this time, a lot has changed and I need time to adjust to my new life as a business owner and only child. If you have any queries please contact my assistant Taehyung, as he will be handling most things for a while. I would like to thank the hospital who have welcomed me into their world, and allowed me to have full reign on designing these wards. And I would like to thank you for coming today, may the lives we’ve lost all rest in peace.”

Taehyung’s hand ghosted the small of your back as you stepped off the small stage, prompting you to turn and face him with a thankful smile. A small blue blur pulled your attention from Taehyung’s handsome features, and in the blink of an eye you’d gone from an emotional wreck to shaking with blind fury. Stood at the very back of the crowd was Yoongi, his hair was dyed blue and his face was smug as he proudly showed off his arm candy. 

Sung.

“Not here, now’s not the time.” Taehyung murmured quietly, seeing your mood change faster than the speed of light. As you watched Yoongi and Sung smile sinisterly, even throw you a little wave, you bit the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood. How fucking dare they show up here, you thought. “Y/N…”

“I know.” You nodded softly, taking in a big breath of air to try and calm yourself down. There were cameras, bystanders, witnesses…and that’s exactly why they’d shown up, because they knew you would never risk Jimin’s reputation. It was obscene and unfair, but you had to remain professional and silently slide into your waiting car, unable to act out, just having to take it for what it was.

“Excuse me, miss?” A young woman tapped you on the shoulder, prompting you to shudder in your sleep and wake up immediately. What a crazy dream… Her eyes were wide but kind, her lips painted red as she smiled at you.

“We’re about to arrive at Incheon.”

“Oh, that’s great. Thank you.” You nodded, suppressing a yawn. It had been years since you’d seen your older brother Jimin and close family friends Jin and Minho, to say you were excited was an understatement, but you were just as nervous too. Your brother owned a business, well, he owned plenty of businesses, which was why you were so nervous. What if they didn’t like you? What if everything had changed? What if they didn’t have time for you? What if nobody remembered you—

“Hey, um… You’re sitting on my jacket.” A tall awkward man bumbled, you didn’t realise  until then that you’d accidentally taken up half of his seat while sleeping.

“I’m so sorry…” You covered your face, embarrassed, why was it always you? “You should’ve woken me up.” You said politely as you shifted in your seat, giving the man back his jacket. He was beautiful, he had long eyelashes that framed his wide, dark brown doe-like eyes and a simple yet elegant smile.

“You looked too peaceful to wake up, it would’ve been like disturbing an angel.” He chuckled, adjusting himself in his own seat. Though you couldn’t figure out why, he seemed nervous as he scratched the back of his neck, emphasising his larger than average biceps.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N… What’s yours?” You were blushing with equal parts embarrassment and attraction. Maybe you were naive to think so, but perhaps this trip to Seoul would change your life forever.

“Jungkook.”

You woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air, for the third time that week. It was as though your brain was endlessly torturing you with what could’ve been, painful reminders of his face, down to the little insignificant features. The scar on his cheek, the freckle on his neck, the shape of his brows… It was so clear that you could’ve sworn he was really there, that’s what hurt the most.

Getting yourself out of bed you headed down the hall on still slightly wobbly legs, wrapped up in your long fluffy dressing gown. You knew it was selfish of you to keep doing this, to keep bothering Taehyung when you couldn’t sleep, but he never seemed to mind. Ever since you’d buried Jungkook and Jimin’s bodies you had barely slept, flashbacks of their faces would randomly invade your mind and stop you from getting anything done. Including sleep apparently.

“Taehyung?” You asked with a quiet knock on his bedroom door, it was around 3AM you figured, he was probably asleep.

“You can come in.” You heard his tired voice call out from the other side of the wood, prompting you to open it and step inside. To your surprise he was shirtless, laid on top of his bed sheets with his laptop resting on his defined abs, the glare from the screen emphasising his chiselled jaw and strong chin.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t think you’d…” You immediately looked away, fixing your eyes on a nearby leather jacket that had been discarded onto the floor. “Be shirtless…”

“It’s fine Y/N.” He chuckled, sitting up on his elbows before covering himself with the sheets. “Can’t sleep again?”

“I just… I keep thinking about Sung and Yoongi at the event, and I keep having dreams where none of this happened. I still feel like it’s all my—“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, come here.” Taehyung gestured for you to join him on the bed, to which you agreed. His chest was warm as he draped a muscular arm around your shoulders, allowing you to snuggle up to his body properly after he placed his laptop on the bedside table. This was a routine now, it was like you couldn’t sleep without him beside you.

“None of this is your fault, how many times do I have to tell you that?”

“But—“

“But nothing, Hoseok was a sick guy who was obsessed with you. He would’ve done anything to make your life a misery and you know it, he even lied about your parents because he knew it would mess with you! That’s not a reflection of you—“

“Even if you take Hoseok out of the equation, what about Sung and Yoongi? She lived in this house, she was my brother’s girlfriend and I didn’t suspect that she was one of the people behind this… I should’ve seen the signs.” You sighed, one tear rolling down your cheek and onto Taehyung’s exposed skin. “I should’ve done more...”

“None of us did…their time will come Y/N, once this all blows over I’m going to kill them myself.” He said with such certainty, such raw hatred that you winced slightly.

“No… I don’t want that.” You peered up at him through long eyelashes, he was already looking at you as he mindlessly toyed with the strands of your hair. “I’m not letting you put yourself in danger like that.”

“But they’ve hurt you—“

“Well the idea of losing you hurts me more.” You admitted shamelessly, Taehyung was the only person in the world you had left, and the thought of losing him made your eyes well up with tears, nausea claiming your stomach. “I can’t lose you Tae, I can’t…”

“I can handle myself.” He defended himself, his eyes serious as you stayed cuddling on his bed.

“So could the others.” You reminded him, perhaps a little harsher than you intended. But you were right, the others were more than capable of handling themselves and look at what happened. You missed them all so much, you even missed the stupid arguments you had with your brother, you would’ve done anything to be arguing with him right now. But instead, there you were, curled up beside Taehyung as you grieved for him.

“Lets just leave, get in the car and go somewhere for a while… I have more than enough money, so do you, we could even use the fake passports Jimin made for us—“

“Are you serious? What about PJO? What about the hospital wings?” Taehyung’s grip on you loosened and you immediately felt colder, less safe.

“We can come back eventually, I just don’t want to stay here anymore… Too many bad things happened in this house, it doesn’t even feel like mine.” Your voice was quiet, but your words were strong. For as long as you could remember you hadn’t felt at home within those walls, and to your surprise Taehyung nodded in agreement.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here? It’s your home Y/N.”

“It’s not...” You shook you head, resting your ear directly on top of his beating heart as you turned away from him, closing your eyes. “You’re my home.”

Taehyung was taken aback by your confession, he wanted nothing but to hold you in his arms forever, to kiss your soft lips and tell you everything would be okay. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you that though, not now, not after you’d lost so much yet gained so much responsibility. It would’ve been selfish of him to tell you how he felt, it would be wrong of him to use your grief to his advantage like that—

“Tae? What do you say?” Your eyes were big and full of hope as they found his, sending his stomach into a frenzied fluttering mess.

“Is that what you want?” His voice was cautious and calculated.

“Yes, I’m sure of it.” You looked back up at him, his eyes were soft and understanding as he offered you a small smile before a yawn overtook him.

“Okay, pack up what you want to take and we’ll set off tomorrow morning. If I’m driving I’ll need to get some sleep though.” He sounded almost guilty that he needed rest, which made you chuckle under your breath. By far Taehyung was the kindest, most gentle man you had ever met. He was smooth and delicate like water, whereas Jungkook was always rough and loud like fire.

“That’s okay… I’ll start packing now.” You climbed off the bed, firing him a small grin before you wound up in your own room and began folding clothes.

There was something cathartic about organising your belongings into what to take and what to leave behind, and for a while it kept your mind busy enough to forget about why you wanted to leave in the first place. At the very top of one of the bookshelves you noticed a small envelope, which seemed to be quite heavy as you picked it up.

Inside was a badly-written note and a huge diamond silver ring, it took you a few seconds to pluck up the courage to read the letter itself as you didn’t know what to expect, but judging from the faint smell of smoke and whiskey you knew exactly who had written this. You sat down on the bed, crossing your legs as you tried on the fine jewellery which seemed to fit perfectly, tears already cascading down your cheeks.

Dear Y/N…

       If you’re reading this something very bad has happened to me. I don’t know how it happened but don’t blame yourself for this, my only hope is that it happened while protecting you. This is the one thing I have left of my family and I want you to have it. It was my grandmother’s, I’ve held onto it my whole life in case I ever found someone like you. I’m sorry I couldn’t give it to you in person, I’m sorry for a lot of things, but most of all I’m sorry for not telling you how much I love you. One day we’ll meet again, I promise.

Jungkook

The ring stayed on your finger as you wiped your face, your head beginning to bang and throb in pain as a migraine overtook your senses. You didn’t know how long the envelope had been there, you didn’t want to know, what was important was the fact you found it when you did. Admiring the diamond dancing under the light, you were still in awe that it was a perfect fit, reality eventually sinking in. He loved you, and that was all you needed to know.

In the other room Taehyung sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he came across the same piece of information that he’d desperately wanted to be a lie. After Hoseok taunted you about his father killing your parents, Taehyung took it upon himself to check for himself just to be sure that they really did die in a plane crash all those years ago.

“For fucks sake…” He whispered, re-watching the security camera footage he’d managed to steal from the police archives he’d illegally broken into. Your parents never boarded the flight that went down like they were supposed to. Instead they attended a masquerade ball that night, held at the infamous Jung family residence… That was where your parents died, at the hands of Hoseok’s father.

He was telling the truth.

You’d been through enough, Taehyung thought. He couldn’t spring this on you as well, not at a time like this, it would’ve been unfair not to mention shitty of him to tell you. But to not tell you, to lie…that was something he wasn’t willing to do either.

It was early the next morning when you were sitting in the passenger seat of Taehyung’s car all packed up and ready to leave Seoul. He suddenly turned to face you with a serious expression, his long worried eyes flitting between your face and the new ring on your finger.

“Hoseok was telling the truth about your parents.”

His words caught you off guard to say the least, but by no means were you surprised. As much as you hated to admit it Hoseok was right, you had always suspected there was more to the story…but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

“How do you know?”

“I did some digging and they never boarded the plane, they were at the Jung’s mansion when they died.” His words were like a stab to the chest, straight to the heart. You had lost everyone you’d ever loved, minus the very important person sitting next to you, at the hands of The Panthers. The thought alone made your blood simultaneously boil with rage and cool with sadness, but there was nothing that could be done about it now.

“Let’s go.” You said with teary eyes, fingers playing with the diamond ring you’d recently discovered. At least in a way Jungkook would always be with you no matter where you were, your parents and Jimin were in your blood, Jin and the others in your heart. And with Taehyung by your side, you would never walk alone.

“Where do you want to go?” Taehyung asked calmly, his large hand on the steering wheel as he started the engine.

“Just drive.” You looked out the window, glancing at the beautiful cherry blossom tree outside the manor house one final time, watching it sway calmly in the light breeze as it did the day you arrived. 

You didn’t have a plan, nor did Taehyung. Neither of you knew what would happen next, where you would go or what you would find. As you drove off into the sunrise, the smell of crisp morning air flooding your senses, all that mattered to you was that you did it together.

Only once you’d left this life behind could your new one really begin.

#bangtanwriters-net #bts you'll never walk alone #got7 you'll never walk alone #ynwa #bts series #gang!bts #gang au bts #gang!got7 #series finale #the end #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #seokjin x reader #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #bts au #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts fanfic #gotbangtan #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #bts scenarios #jungkook #namjoon #taehyung #seokjin

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Ohana: Part 3

Pairings: Negan x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff

Word Count: 3,236

Part 1 / Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a five second period, you had officially figured out exactly what you had managed to get yourself involved with. One minute, everything was simply tense as you sat awkwardly besides the stairs, surrounded by people kneeling, while you listened to Negan’s speech about rules and how they keep things running… but the next word that you heard and completely registered was iron.

Your head whipped over to the fire, where everyone was watching an antique iron grow red hot in the furnace and it took you a moment to replace the word iron with your next instruction. Thankfully for you, Simon pulled you to your feet as Negan headed down the stairs toward you. He met your eyes for only a millisecond but in that moment, you realized just what kinda man he was… and it made sense to you.

“I’m gunna need someone to get him to my clinic immediately.” You whispered to Simon as you leaned slightly to the side to see who your patient was going to be. “And I need to go on a run early in the morning. At least four people outside my crew if you can spare it.” You barely saw his head nod out of the corner of your eye as Negan took the iron from the hook Dwight was holding.

Just like you had for the three years you were in Iraq, you blocked out the blood curdling screams that filled the hall as Negan burned off the left side of Mark’s face. You couldn’t avoid the smell of burning flesh; it was one smell that you could never get away from. You didn’t wanna know what rule he broke but part of you knew that it had something to do with the news you had given Negan in your clinic. You could barely see Amber out of the corner of your eye, watching in horror with the rest of the people in the room. But you chose to not focus on that. You chose to focus only on your job.

“Hey, doc.” Negan called out, shaking you from your own mind. You looked away from Mark’s passed out form and met his smiling eyes. “I’m all done here. Do your thing.” With a simple nod, you dipped through the crowd to start untying your patient to get him back up to your clinic. You checked his pulse, looked at the starting point of damage on his face, and started mumbling under your breath about what you would need to keep this man alive.

“Here, we got him.” A man named Leo said as he and another guy came to help you out.

“Take him straight to the clinic. I’m right behind you.”

——

It took you nearly all afternoon and far into the night to get Mark’s face debrided and patched up as best as you could. Around one in the morning, you needed to take a break to get some clean clothes and get off your prosthetic for a bit before you went out on your run. You locked the clinic door behind you and headed down the hall to your room, where you hoped Brenna was sleeping peacefully. You weren’t expecting to see who was currently choosing to babysit her.

“What’s up, doc?” Negan asked with a cocky edge in his voice. You simply glared at him as you limped into your room and over to your dresser.

“You did not need to be here.” You said as you pulled off your shirt and grabbed a new one from your dresser.

“What? I’m just fucking checking on my…”

“I’m not set up as a burn unit, Negan.” You hissed as you rounded on him. “Not one bit. I’m assuming that’s what happened to Dwight’s face as well and I am honestly shocked that Carson kept him alive with the little shit he had. But if this is your choice of punishment for rule breakers, you need to let me know now so I can be prepared to do my damn job.” Once again, Negan gave you ‘your look’ as you sat down on your bed beside your sleeping daughter and took off your prosthetic.

“That’s your fucking response?” He asked incredulously as you grabbed your jar of icy hot and a tube of chafe shield from your bedside table. You looked up at him and cocked your eyebrow questioningly.

“As opposed to what? I told you, I’m not scared of you.” He huffed as you spread an ample amount of Icy Hot onto the end of your stump.

“You fucking should be.” He growled. You sighed and let your arms fall onto your thighs.

“Why? Why should I be scared of a man that’s trying to keep the roof over his head running smoothly? Why should I be scared of your chosen consequences to people that break the rules you laid out perfectly clear, no matter how barbaric I think those methods are? Why should I be afraid of doing the same job the US government hired me to do years ago? I used to patch up men held in captivity and tortured for information on Al Qaeda. Just because I didn’t agree with their methods or your methods now, doesn’t mean I don’t have a job to do. 

I swore an oath when I became a doctor that I would do anything and everything to help my patients and if burned by an iron and missing limbs from deadie bites is what my patients look like these days, then I’ll do anything to keep them alive as best as I can. But I’ll be fucking damned if I get another burn victim without being set up as a burn center.”

“Jesus… I’d ask what the fuck is wrong with you but you’re just as twisted as I am and there ain’t nothing fucking wrong with that.” You huffed a laugh and shook your head as you turned your attention back to your leg.

“Nope. Just a product of my environment. Blame the government, I do.” You looked back up at him as you sat back against you pillows and brushed your hands off on your cut off jean shorts. “I need a few guys to head over to the hospital a county over I worked in. They have a burn unit and an ER that could come in handy right now.” He nodded as he got up from your desk chair.

“We’ll leave at dawn.” You nodded at him as you leaned your head back on the headboard and closed your eyes.

“See you then, boss.” You opened one eye and looked over at him with a smile as he shook his head.

“Fucking smart ass.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“OK, I need this room cleared and closed off.” You said as you pointed to the burn center door at the north end of the building you used to work in before turning to the south end of the building where the ER was. “And this one.” You pulled out your hand drawn map from your pocket and laid it out on the hood of Negan’s truck. “The burn unit has only one door inside here. It’s a swinging door with no handles. One way or another, I need to get in there because their antibiotics are the best.” The small crew of nine people including you and Negan nodded as you pulled the map toward you a bit more and sighed.

“Now the ER is a little more complicated. Three entries, no doors except the main one that leads outside; however, there are ten hospital beds that lock and a bunch of chairs that can be used as temp walls. Now, between the two doors that lead to the hallways are three trauma bays. They have doors on either side that can be closed and locked if need be. There are windows but they are high enough that if the what do you call um’s… biters? If the biters get through the glass, we’ll have enough of a warning to take them out before they make it over the wall and into the ER.

So this is what I suggest. We tackle the ER first. You guys get the temp walls up and secured while I clear out the trauma with um…. what’s your name again?” You looked up at the younger guy that was maybe in his early twenties. He told you his name, Chris, and you nodded as you flipped your map over. “OK, Chris. You, me, and Dwight are going to to take the three trauma bays. I’ll take one because it’s the biggest, Chris in two, and Dwight, you’ll take three. Clear out everything as fast as you can. The meds and supplies are in the glass shelf things on these two walls.” The two men looked at the walls you were pointing to and nodded. 

“Break the glass and throw every single thing into your bag. Then shove the two rolling carts into the main room and open the back door. You better run like your life depends on it and close the doors into the ER without getting bit. After that just make enough noise on the glass and the doors to get the walkers from the hall into the trauma bays so that we can get the ER cleared. That way, we draw the biters out of the burn unit so it’ll be easier to empty. 

Lastly, I need Negan or Regina on my six. Once I start clearing out the ER, I’m not gunna have time to watch my back and you two are the best shots we got. Just, please, keep me safe and try to stay out of my way since we all know I am not all that fast moving, OK?” Negan gave you a short nod and Regina looked like she was ready to murder you for telling her what to do. You grabbed your map and folded it up to put in your back pocket again. You looked at your crew expectantly and waited for them to either ask questions or move, but they did neither.

“You fucking heard her as well as I fucking did.” Negan said as he put Lucille over his shoulder and spun the crowbar you needed in his hand. “She runs the fucking med runs. Let’s move!” The crew jumped into action as you grabbed your knife and your old duffle off the seat of your motorcycle.

“Thank you.” You said quietly as you headed toward the door and put your quiver over your shoulder. Negan glanced down at you and shrugged.

“You know what the fuck you’re doin’. I trust your judgement with the medical shit same way I trust fuckin’ Simon or Gavin’s judgement with their communities.” Your brow furrowed as you looked up at him.

“What communities?” Negan paused outside the ER doors as Dwight and Arat pried the bay doors open.

“Worry about it later.” You nodded at him as you put your knife in the new to you holder on your belt and looked into the ER you were so familiar with.

“Alright. Let’s go.” On silent feet, the nine of you crept inside, easily taking out only four walkers that were standing around in the ER. On your way past, you popped the locks on the end of one of the beds as an example and ran as fast as your prosthetic would allow to trauma one. You knew immediately that it had been partially raided the second you stepped in the room but there was still enough stuff that was worth your while. You instantly grabbed a lamp and smashed it into the glass cabinet. You threw box after box of gauze, tape, needles and syringes into your bag and thanked God that whoever had raided this place originally didn’t think to grab these things the first time around.

“Leaving behind bandaids? Who does that?” As you grabbed the last few things from the cabinet, you heard the first slam and growl of a deadie slamming into your trauma room door. You barely gave it a second glance as you grabbed the handle of the first med cart and shoved it toward the door. With a grunt, you shoved the second cart toward the door, grabbed the entire tray of medical instruments and yanked open the back door.

“Trauma one, open.” You called out as you slammed the door behind you a mere second before the biter got to you.

“Trauma three, open.” Dwight yelled as shoved a cart in the middle of the room and started banging on the closed door.

“Two’s good.” Chris panted as he slammed his door closed and leaned against it. You looked over at him as he dropped his bag on the floor.

“Where’s your carts?” You snapped as you grabbed Dwight’s carts and pulled them toward you. The kid’s face dropped as he looked back into the room. “Jesus Christ.” You grumbled as Arat came over to help get the biters into the trauma bays. “Fuck it, make noise.”

“You’ll fucking pay for that later, kid.” Negan said as he took a step behind you and handed you the crow bar. You got to work quickly dumping bottle after bottle of medications and packages of sterile equipment into your duffle. It didn’t take long before the first window broke and the sound of guttural growls filled the room.

“Regina, get on this fucking window!” Negan shouted as you got the last cart emptied. You grabbed Chris’ half full bag and took off at a run, killing a walker that had wandered in from the back door with your crow bar on the way past.

“Main door’s getting compromised.” You called out as you slid into the nurses station where all the good drugs were in the center pharmacy of your thankfully small time hospital. You kept moving forward, ignoring what was going on behind you as best as you could so you didn’t forget anything… until you couldn’t any longer.

“I’m bit!” Chris screamed as he stumbled back from the window holding his arm. You swore under your breath and took off at a fast hobble.

“Negan, hold it out.” You said as you grabbed your knife from the holder. The boy screamed ‘no’ as Negan yanked his arm out of his grip and held it tight. Without thinking, you swung your knife as hard as you could and cut it clean off at the elbow. “Hold it up above your heart.” You said as you ripped off your belt and wrapped it around his arm. You pulled it tight and yanked off your t-shirt to try and stop the bleeding for a moment.

“Just fucking sit there!” You shouted as you ran back over to the nurses station to get the last of what you needed, not caring at that moment if the boy died or not and only caring about getting the more important job done. The moment you cleared the last bottle of morphine from the shelf, you zipped your bag closed and headed back to deal with Chris.

“We’re done in here. Let’s get him outside!” Negan continued shouting orders as you grabbed one of the duffle bags and Chris’ shirt to pull him to his feet. “Move, kid. Move your feet. Let’s go, keep that arm up.” The boy sobbed beside you as Dwight ran in front of you with the other two duffles and killed a stray biter. He kept the path clear to the truck he rode in and yanked open the back.

“What do you need?” He asked as you shoved Chris down on the tailgate.

“Clamps. They look like big tweezers. And I know there is rubbing alcohol somewhere.” The pair of you started ripping through bags to find the things you needed as the rest of the crew came out of the ER while taking out stray biters that made it through the bed barricade. “Stay with me kid. Just fucking stay with me. Dwight, I need hands.” You scrambled as fast as you could to get the bleeding under control, knowing full well that you were almost literally ringing a dinner bell with the screaming kid and the wave of blood that was drenching your partially naked body.

“This is not what I fucking planned, asshole!” You screamed at Chris as you got the last clamp into place. You grabbed a wad of gauze around the end of his stump and wrapped it up carefully with tape, being careful not to dislodge any of the clamps. With a sigh, you took a step back and found Negan. “We have maybe half an hour to do the burn unit. That’s it. He’ll be fine that long but we’ll be pushing it any longer.”

“Let’s fucking move, people.” Negan said, prompting you and Dwight to move the blood drenched kid deeper into the bed of the truck. You grabbed your knife out of the bed and followed the rest of the group, gratefully accepting the bandana Laura handed you to wipe off your face.

“Alright, once we’re in, I want three people on the fucking door. Everyone else, clear out every shelf, cart, cubby… shit, every fucking container in the fucking smallest fucking drawer you can find. Quick and fucking efficient.” Negan said as he led the group over to the burn unit.

“And please don’t get bit. I got one fucking amputee and a fucking rule breaker to deal with I don’t need more.” Negan looked back over your shoulder and caught your eye for a half second before he looked back and ripped the doors open. The crew scrambled forward, the three biggest guys taking point at the double doors as everyone else split off to empty their cabinets.

“Fucking kids.” You grumbled to yourself as you pried open one of the cabinets marked ‘meds’. “Who the fuck put a kid on my squad anyways? Mother fucking insult.”

“Quit fuckin’ griping.” Negan said behind you as he ripped apart a cabinet with sterile gloves and gowns.

“Kid had no business in that hospital, Negan. He’ll be lucky if I can save the rest of that arm.”

“And that’s his own damn fucking fault, doc. Not yours. He made the fucking choice to come and he made the choice not to listen. That falls on him.” You sighed as you and Negan both emptied the last cabinet along the wall together. You heard the other crew members start calling out ‘clear’ one by one as the first walkers started to hit the door. “Clear out!” You made it a half step away from your cabinet when Negan dipped his shoulder into your stomach and lifted you off the ground. You reached back, grabbed your prosthetic and held it on your stump as you watched the biters start to push through the unguarded door.

“Close it, close it, close it!” You cried out as Negan made it outside with you over his shoulder. Dwight and Arat slammed the door closed and stuck a broken piece of bed rail through the handles just in the nick of time. You let out a sigh of relief as Negan set you down on the ground carefully. You looked up at him for a moment and gave him a small nod. “Alright. Let’s get this dumbass back home.”

Part 4

#Negan x Reader #Ohana #Negan thirst squad #Negan's thirst squad

[heda-heather]

Overprotective Sara 4/4

2 hours later

Sara paces back and forth in her quarters, swinging her baton in one hand.

A portal opens and Sara jumps. Ava walks through.

Ava: “Sorry for the delay, the agents we sent in were—“

Ava’s words are interrupted by Sara’s forceful lips. Ava loses her balance a little, caught off guard by Sara’s arms wrapping around her neck. She steadies herself by holding onto Sara’s hips and kisses her back. When Sara releases her lips, Ava smiles.

Ava: “Well, that was a nice welcome home.”

Sara does not look pleased.

Sara: “Next time you say one hour, it better be one hour, I was worried sick. What is wrong with you? Why did you order me to stay? I should’ve been there.”

Sara looks to the floor, shaking her head back and forth and begins pacing again.

Sara: “I mean, you just walked out on me like that. Am I that much of a burden to have? What is it, you don’t want your work friends to know you’re hooking up with the loser time fugitive?”

Ava: “What? No, babe. No, no, no. That’s not it at all.”

Sara: “Then what is it?? Why didn’t you want me to go with you?”

Ava pauses for a second. She moves over to Sara’s bed and takes a seat.

Ava: “Come here, Sara.”

Sara stands tensely, staring at the spot next to Director Sharpe. She grips her fists tightly, and eventually gives in and takes a seat, but she keeps enough distance so she won’t have to touch Ava, which isn’t put past the tall time agent. Sara puts her hands on her knees and keeps her eyes focused on the floor. It pains Ava to see her this upset.

Ava: “Sara... I love having you with me. If I could, I’d take you everywhere I went. I’d fight every battle with you by my side, but...”

Sara deflates. She’s heard them all before. Ava picks up on this quickly.

Ava: “Babe, hear me out first.”

Ava places her hand over Sara’s. Sara flinches but doesn’t move her hand away.

Ava sighs.

“What’s going on with you lately? As I said, I LOVE having you with me, but you never leave your team behind. Damien Darhk has always been your mission. I don’t want you to get distracted by being with me, you know? We’ve always been able to do our jobs separately and together, but lately it’s been a whole lot of together. I’m afraid your losing sight of your team’s goal. And plus, with everything that’s at risk right now, the Time Bureau really needs you guys to hold up your end... meaning, I really need the captain of this ship to be focused.”

Sara lifts her head up to meet Ava’s eyes. She nods slowly.

Sara: “You’re right, I’m sorry. I just... I don’t want to lose you. Ava, we watched as your boss got murdered by that monster. I’m having trouble... I don’t know how to— I can’t just send you off to — to that. I won’t let anything happen to you. I can’t. Yes, my team is my responsibility, but... you’re my responsibility now too, Aves.”

Sara looks to Ava with such sincerity, the director nearly melts. Ava’s grip tightens on Sara’s hand, as she uses the other one to brush a stray piece of hair behind Sara’s ear.

Ava: “Sara... Director Bennett had good intentions, but he didn’t listen to the intel we provided him. I trust you and your team and I know what we’re dealing with. I’m not going anywhere... not without coming back. I will always come back to you. Okay?”

Sara still doesn’t look fully satisfied.

Ava laughs lightly at the stubborn look on her face.

Ava: “Okay, how about this? I promise from now on, if I’m not back within an hour to the dot, you have my full permission to come after me.”

Sara contemplates.

Sara: “One. Hour.”

Ava’s smile curls even bigger.

Ava: “To the millisecond.”

Sara contemplates for a short second longer.

Sara: “... deal.”

Sara visibly relaxes, looking forward, slightly lost in thought. Ava looks on in awe.

“God, I adore you,” Ava barely whispers.

Sara turns: “Hmm?”

Ava smiles: “Oh nothing, I just didn’t realize Sara Lance had so many feeeeelings.”

Sara rolls her eyes: “Oh, shut up.”

Ava: “Why don’t you make me?”

Sara grins. She’s on Ava faster than Wally on a Rolex. It seems Sara Lance has a soft side, after all... but that’s for Ava to know and the rest of her team... to pretend not to.

#sara lance #avalance #avalance fic #ava sharpe #overprotective sara

[onceabluemoonwrites]

Homeward bound (Gospel Without Compass)

Title: Homeward bound (Gospel Without Compass) Author: OnceABlueMoon Rating: T Pairing: Fran & Hibari Kyoya

Tags/Warnings: 

Summary:  Bodyswap AU in which Fran gets lost in the large scheme of things, and Hibari picks up drifting feathers.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.

FF.net | AO3 | My other entries: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

My fic master list here.

Written for the @khrrarepairweek Day 6 - Cloud Day: Bodyguard/Hitman AU | Kidnapping (…even though the kidnapping ended up so out of place that it became an omake).  The original inspiration, however, was a lovely ask from @metronomeihear with the prompts ‘’Hibari and Fran’’  and ‘’the pretender’’. I adored writing this!

It’s terrifying, Fran thinks sometimes, how easy it is to melt into Hibari’s skin. It’s so obvious to him, when he sees his own body walk by, green hair loose underneath the hat; that’s not his gait- he walks a millisecond slower, just a little less brisk. That’s not his joke- sure, it sounds like it’s his, but it isn’t, because Hibari talks just a little lower, the way Fran’s own voice is not meant to be used.

It hurts, knowing the others don’t notice.

Kusakabe noticed it immediately. Sawada’s eyes linger on him when he enters the room, but he’s got hyper intuition. It’s not cheating- Fran’s Varia, in the Varia there is no cheating, only power, and those who don’t have the power to succeed are eliminated.

The Varia is cold halls, corpses in closets, the smell of rotten-don’t-find-out-for-you-own-sanity. Slinking through the mansion is strange, as if walking through a space that doesn’t exist, a parking lot, an airport, a stairwell.

Places that don’t have a right to exist, other than being a portal to another place.

The sound of shattering glass, a screaming Squalo and swoosh from a knife in the dark, aimed at his heart.

The Varia mansion doesn’t feel like a home, but the others treat it like one, so maybe it’s just Fran.

He doesn’t belong there. Nor did he belong with Mukuro and his gang.

It was illusions, and strange places. It was a man in his head, who had a guarded, hot-cold, hurt heart entangled in a war with his mind. It was fashion disasters, and screaming, a woman playing on her clarinet, speaking French together late at night. It was calling Ken a dog, while simultaneously being the one receiving the treats. It was asking Chikusa to teach him tricks with yoyo’s- a childish fit of adventure, quickly brushed off afterward (and if Fran was often found swirling Bel-senpai’s knives around his finger, fingers jerking as if reeling something in then that was his business).

It was… Avoiding Mukuro’s previous apprentice when she visited, because Fran was not made for warm cheeks and Kuromu (Chrome? He was never quite sure about the pronunciation- Mukuro kept switching between them) was way too pretty.

And before Mukuro, there was his grandmother, apple pie and the sound of Au Claire de la lune- as if she knew that no door of love would ever be open to him.

He doesn’t remember his parents.

But that’s all backwards. He was with his parents. They died. Not much difference, it was, with his grandmother. He certainly couldn’t protest as a baby.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t protest either when Mukuro came to get him. Maybe that’s why he stayed, when Squalo and Bel-senpai stole him away in the night. He never struggled, that’s for certain.

At this point in his life, it’s more than clear: Fran is not the one moving, he’s the component that stays in place, until others move him. Like a coffee cup, lifted from the cabinet, filled, drunk from, and when the liquid was gone and only the bitter suds remained, they rinsed him off to be drunk from by the next person.

So when he woke up, like this, in Hibari’s body… He just went with it.

It’s not strange. Not at all.

Fran has no home, has no place where he belongs, lives his life like that cup until it falls and shatters.

So why, oh, why, must Hibari look at him like that?

Those are his own eyes staring back at him, and pity tastes like burned toast.

Fran’s never been shy about spitting food he doesn’t like out.

Hibari has never been shy either, about biting people to death or otherwise. If there was a time he might’ve clutched his mother’s skirts, then it was an act from a past, long-forgotten life. (The blood, though, he never forgot. Neither did he forget his uncle’s face when he came to Namimori to visit his sister, only to find out the Triads already visited and left him a little present in the form of her dead cold body and a deeply traumatised, disturbed nephew.

Fon is the one who coaxed him out of the forest, wild as an animal, raw and hurting and if there’s anyone who understands what it’s like not to belong, it’s Hibari.

The difference between the pineapple’s green apprentice and him? Hibari has learned the world will never change, not unless you make it. Fran… Took one look and was content to remain where he was, shoved and passed around by others. Too lazy to lift a finger, or perhaps, too sad.

He doesn’t know what it’s like to have your mother’s still warm blood on your face, to watch her mow down two men with her, telling you to run because those bastards can’t have the satisfaction of killing you both.

Would it have cost her so much to tell him that she loved him? …Would it have changed a thing?

Hibari has calmed down. He is a murderer, he is mafia. He is Namimori’s protector, he is Namimori’s demon. He has a fire in his soul, but his soul is not a fire, and his bones are deep, dark and old.

He is the forest to Fran’s pine tree, mirror image of what could have been and perhaps, a vision of the future.

Neither of them are interested in that.

Fran isn’t even interested in getting his own body back- but Hibari is, because Fran is short and does not have the proper muscles for tonfa wielding. Also, Hibari isn’t going to be an eighteen-year-old snot again, so that’s that.

Now. To get the carnivore into line.

Receiving memories from ten years in the future, just a month or two, didn’t feel like gaining memories- no, it felt like losing them.

There was nothing stranger than a ten-year gap between your current self and the one you remembered there being in the future- you were that person, yet not, and it messed you up.

Nobody had expected the effects to reach this far, though.

Chrome’s eyes flit through the room. Nothing unusual ‘bout that. She did that- it was a thing. Fran wants to bash his head against the door, until it’s good and bloody. This is absolute hell. Whenever he snaps back, somehow, she’s right there, next to the Boss, painting his toenails as he did hers (how she survived he had no idea, but then again, she had been Mukuro-sama’s apprentice, and it showed). Whenever he snaps forward- like an elastic, boom, back into Hibari- she’s somehow in front of him, all purple hair and… and…

Squalo, that filthy traitor, called Fran out on his blushing.

God have mercy on him.

(Hibari offers to beat him up next time they swapped, and Fran doesn’t know how to deal with that either. Is Hibari defending his… honor? Feelings? Saving his own skin by making sure Fran didn’t do something stupid like getting killed over his hormones? Nah, too much effort, and Hibari knows that. 

...Doesn’t he?)

Maybe in another world, Mukuro came after Fran. Maybe in another world, Fran learned to fight. Maybe in another world- but there is this world only, and Fran must live in it.

‘’Then live and fight, carnivore.’’

There are many things that Fran has learned by now, and though sometimes Hibari’s body feels more like home than his own, how sometimes his skin itches as if he doesn’t belong in his own body… Fran is home. In Namimori, where the sun shines, where Kusakabe keeps a watchful eye on him, where Sawada Nana smiles knowingly and gives him a juice box and a snack for on the way. The Varia halls are still cold, but somedays, Boss’ smirks just shy of amusement, somedays, Squalo looks at him and speaks a little softer, somedays, Belphegor saves dessert for him. Other days, Lussuria drags Levi and Fran shopping, and they bond over sore feet and Lussuria’s happy smiles.

…For the first time in his life, Fran is not content with being a coffee cup, and Hibari seizes the moment and exploits it.

He’ll teach the child how to sharpen his teeth yet.

Fran is fifteen, still a child, and maybe, just maybe, it’s going to be alright.

Omake:

Somewhere, Fran just knew, Mukuro was laughing his ass off.

As far as Hibari was concerned, all Fran needed to do was cease getting kidnapped.

Hibari didn’t give a damn about the stained glass. He wanted his fucking body back, and preferably before he did something like accidentally slit the green carnivore’s wrist on said stained glass while bursting through.

Why did the baby carnivore get kidnapped again? Hibari needed to reconsider Fran’s carnivore status like yesterday.

#khr #khrrarepairweek2018 #fran #hibari kyoya #fic #OnceABlueMoonWrites fic #fanfiction #fanfic #my posts

[lefinohohohohon]

Red

Red

Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya

A SPUK romance

A/N: as much as I can tolerate and respect the SPUK yaoi and for some odd reason I really do like their pairings in yaoi, this is not a yaoi, you yaoi-ing what I said?

P.S This was on my drive and I just happen to stumble on it, I forgot what year. I’m just surprised I can wright some sensual stuff!- 05/04/17 =============================================================

The sea breeze gently passed her hat making the feathers on it swayed to where the winds wanted to go, her red velvet navy cloak fluttered at her back as she gaze on the calm rocking of the sea waves, Isabelle Fernandez Carriedo also known as the Kingdom of Spain was set out in the sea yet again but this time , she isn’t on an adventure to find a new colony, she was sailing back to her place to settle a rising problem in the European power.

 Francis or as he was known throughout the world as France has yet again managed to pissed off a certain British Empire from across him, Arthur Kirkland isn’t any ordinary empire in the Europe, with his bands of sea dogs lurking in the sea, he can easily conquer others colony in a split of an eye, and that’s one reason why she-Spain is going back to the Peninsula to be  an ally of  France-though she is having second thoughts with allying to Francis, but after knowing that their bosses were related to each other the papers had been  process and everything is done in the  ‘treaty’, Isabelle has no other choice but to leave her young colonies at the hands of her eldest son ‘Nueva España’ Romano could handle himself with Belgium helping him, sighing Spain flipped a bunch of strayed bangs off her face before she took off her three-pointed captain hat off, she walked back to her quarters to rest for a bit, it will take about 5 hours before they could dock at the nearest port at her place.

 Hands on her knob to her chambers, she suddenly halted her action when she had heard her crew men's yell from the crow’s nest

“Inglaterra!”

quickly her men started to prepare to attack the English pirate ship,swords unsheathed and rase waiting for the enemy to make their move, what Spain hadn’t expect was England swaying in her ship sword raise, rope thrown from his ship for him to sway towards hers alone and stopping at the railings of her ship

“A pleasant morning to you wankers!”England smugly said to the Spanish crew, scanning the wooden deck of his enemy when his emerald eyes landed on the same emerald eyes he was looking, he sheathed his sword back to his belt and propped down on the deck making his way towards the captain of the ship, Spain’s crew was ready to stab the foolish Englishman’s back when they felt that one by one the english pirate henchmen started to board the ship as well.

Casually Arthur strode towards where Isabelle stood-right in front of her chambers,

“What a lovely day to see you love” Arthur sarcastically said, taking his captain’s hat off and bowing to the lady in front of him, of course though they were enemies, he couldn’t be rude to a lady now can he? he was after all a gentleman-pirate. He lifted his head up and propped back his hat on his shaggy golden locks smiling in front of his long rival

 “what is so lovely in the morning when you are here Inglaterra?” Spain pointed the tip of her bladed axe on England, eyeing him warily “you are not welcome here, but if you wanted to lose badly, you are welcome aboard” Isabelle smirked seductively towards him, and it took Arthur all his might not to grab her ravishing her in front of anyone without a care, red was the most befitting color to her, it made her look alluring -no not alluring that was something to France he sincerely thought, and Arthur almost gagged at himself for even thinking Francis was ‘alluring’ in someway! Isabelle was alluring-yes! but Arthur thought other wise, Red is her color for her passion for everything and anything including him being captivated by those reds of hers, he continued to fantasies but  smacked himself internally when he realize what he was thinking, God he was losing himself on his own desire, he should focus more at ruining the Spaniard not her ruining his mind, he looked back at her, the tip of the deadly  halberd was enough to make him hold back and instead smirk at her, he just have to make her eat her words

“do you really think you could beat me Spain? with this silly pirate crew of yours! albeit in mere seconds I can crash this ship” he taunted making the female sneered at him

“Let see about that!” Spain launched forward to England and not millisecond later their crew followed their action.

Clashing and slashing were heard on the spanish ship, men from both sides groaned as they fought for their country, Arthur continued to press Isabelle further whilst evading that deadly halberd he still couldn’t put on his head how a woman like her could managed to carry that.

the smirk he had been carrying on his smug face had completely left his face as he found himself a moment later trapped between the axe on his throat and his back press against the railings of the ship “who’s laughing now Inglaterra?” Isabelle smugly sneered at him, for a moment Arthur felt helpless,he didn’t expect for this to happen and yet he is stuck in this situation, he was ready to face his fate when he saw an opportunity to escape and probably win this impromptu- attack, grinning he looked back to his men and shouted

“Ready a boat and retreat!”

Isabelle was a bit befuddled at Arthur’s orders ‘Ready a boat and retreat? what does that mean-!’ her trance of thoughts was immediately cut off when she realize what England had planned, leaning back to the railings, Arthur held his sword with his other hand as he encircled it also around the slim waist of Spain bringing her closer to his body,

“hope you can swim love, were going diving today!” and thus he push their bodies off the railing falling in the deep blue ocean head first. Spain struggled to get away from England but her struggling had done nothing, they continued to sink further down the sea, her sight blacking as her breath was gone, the only thing Isabelle could think of wasn’t her own kingdom nor what punishment she will received from her boss by shaming their Spanish Armada-no none of that really came into her mind, what worried her the most is her colonies

“mi niños, be safe”

 oOo

she was conscious yet she could only see darkness with his eyes, she could hear everything yet she felt alone, she could feel her body but it didn’t move

‘where am I?’ she thought anxiously, she couldn't remember anything that had happened before and after the attack of the bushy browed empire  then realization struck her, England was with her, he had dragged her off the railings of her ship and dive into the sea with him, gritting her teeth, she tried to move her body once more to find and murder that English bastard after what he had done to her, oh he will pay, he will definitely pay when she got out of this ropes-wait ropes?!

Spain wriggled her arms at her back to find them tied up in ropes, eyes becoming huge as a saucer, she glance down to her legs to find them also tied up, gasping she tried to push herself up but only ended up slumping back to the hard cemented wall, air was knock-out off her after she had done that, craning her neck she found herself staring at a  short chain stuck in the wall, she followed where the chain had started and ended, brows furrowed and teeth gritting she could not believe the situation she was in, she was the one chained up on the neck in the wall like an animal!

furious she tried to pull off the chain but nothing came undone, only the clinking and rustling of the chains and occasional swearing  was the noise in the small room she was in, she continued to pull the chains not realizing that someone had entered her darkened room

 “Well, isn’t it nice you're awake? I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t wake up” a british voice said from behind Isabelle, she spun around to meet the bushy browed empire himself and she sneered at him

“INGLATERRA! GET ME OFF OF THIS CHAINS!” She stood , hands balled into a fist, eyes blazing like hell as she was ready to gave him the beating of the century, she wanted to punch him, poke his eyes out till they bled and make him bleed like the red on his flag, she wanted him to beg for mercy after what he had done to her, but everything she wanted to do was suddenly impossible when the chains and ropes binding her body pulled her back to slump hard to the wall

“now, now Spain, that’s not a proper way to greet your host” he grinned making the Spaniard detest him more, he walked closer to her but not too close for the Spaniard to take a chance to punch him, he couldn’t believe he had the Spanish Empire on his, like a stow away slave, he chuckled more

“When I get out of here, Inglaterra, I swear you wished you didn’t cross paths with me”

Spain  threatened, but England merely laughed at her threats, bending down to Isabelle’s face, he gave her a toothy smirk, reaching out his hand, he made a move to grab the her chin but abruptly stop “I’ll bite you, don’t test me Inglaterra, you know what I can do” Isabelle warned not liking the idea of the English dog touching her, England ‘tsk’ but still grabbed hold of her face not minding her threats

‘what does it matter if she bit me? I have her anyway!’ he thought inwardly a smile crossing his face before it broke into a fit of laughter, his emerald eyes lock with hers

“That is if you can escape Spain” he chuckled darkly before tugging the chains on her neck pulling her close to his face, though she had been locked up for about a week now, he could still smell the rich perfume she wore, and it made him think otherwise ‘I think I’ll be the one biting on to her’ he thought lustfully and shook off the thoughts before he gets too distracted

“you see, I have you on the neck,  tied and locked up in this dungeon, what can you do?” he taunted

“don’t underestimate my empire Arthur, I have my colonies and soon mi niños will be looking for me”

again Arthur laughed , he laughed harder this time as he had clutched his stomach unable to control himself, he looked back at Isabelle with disbelief and for a moment Isabelle was also confused, ‘why was Arthur laughing? there was nothing funny to what I said’ she thought, she looked up at the British asking a soundless question “I know what you’re thinking love, but let me ask you one thing” he began and pulled the chain again that had fallen from his hand, he played with it before looking to her fiery green “how long do you think you had been unconscious huh?”

the question made Isabelle gaped and stutter as she answers “a-a day”

“a week! not a day a week from the day we clashed into the sea on your way back”

“Q-Que?!”  Spain couldn’t believe what she just heard ,she had been out for a week now?! how can that be possible, how is it possible that her boss hadn't done anything to find her and her

“mi niños!” she shouted after realizing what could happen to her children, she looked back to the Englishman who can’t keep the smirk on his face hidden

“My children, Inglaterra! what did you do to my children?” she accusingly said to Arthur who just shrugged his shoulder and stood to his full height “don’t worry about your little kids so much, you should worry about yourself fi-” “Where are my children!!” she cut him off and it made Arthur cringe for a bit, he has to remember Spain is the most attached to her children and she would do What God knows if she found out someone had harmed them.

sighing  he made his way back to the door, he had enough pissing off the Spanish woman for the time being “Arthur! Mi niños! did you not understand what I said? My children Arthur! where are the-” “I know very bloody hell what you had said woman!” he shouted back

“then where are they?!” Isabelle shouted again, England leaned on the frame of the door crossing his arms over his chest before speaking

“as much as I don’t want to admit it, your children is keeping a good fight… though I would say that it wouldn’t last long” he mumbled the last part and craned his neck to look at the tied spaniard, she had a relieved look and he hated it when he couldn’t torment the spaniard, he grit his teeth before smirking “but I wouldn’t say for your other colonies”

“w-what do you mean?”

Arthur smiled, he could feel the Spaniards fear, he could smell his victory now and what beautiful ways to torment Isabelle Fernandez Carriedo than to let her know that someone had took her precious children, Arthur spun around to fully face the Spaniard the smug look never leaving his face

“Your Asian colony is now under my rule” and he left closing the door shut with a still stunned woman on the floor, Isabelle didn't knew how long she stared at the door with tears falling into her face,

 she had to get out, she had to get out no matter the cost

“wait for mi ni niños, I’ll be back”

 end

#hetalia #Nyo!spain #aphEngland #SpainXEngland

[nataliecrown]

4x02 Recap - Heavy Lies the Crown (The 100)

This was a quality episode. It’s not gonna jump on to my all time faves list, possibly because pretty much everything was spoiled beforehand (can’t wait to be past the screener eps, honestly), but it was some high calibre shit.

Warning: I am in a foul and irritable mood. If this recap is saltier than usual, I apologise. Unless you like salt, in which case - I did it especially for you!

Onwards...

- NOTE: They fixed Zach’s name in the credits. My question is, how the hell was that mistake ever allowed to happen. My god.

Anyway...

Radioactive, Radioactive

- The butterflies are back! I am HERE for throwing back to the S1 radioactive imagery. Could it be that we will see random dude from S2 again at some point? A GIRL CAN DREAM.

- So this whole opening sequence was seriously rad. We got to see ALIE again. Who knew that would excite me so much (Erica’s performance is just so damn good), we got to hear Tree Adam’s awesome soundtrack again, and we got a pretty brilliant introduction to Ilian. I gave exactly zero shits about RILEY later on in the episode, but I am instantly a fan of this dude.

- I also think it’s worth pointing out that his trauma must be EXTREME. He murdered his family. Yes, he wasn’t in control. But he can remember every damn moment. I doubt he will remain an antagonist forever, but I can’t say I blame him for being seriously fucked up and needing to expel that fucked up ness through violence and rage.

LET’S TALK KABBY

- THIS WHOLE SCENE WAS WONDERFUL.

- It’s legit pretty rad that an older couple get to have proper on screen sexy times on a ‘teen’ show. Kudos! It’s hawt.

- Paige Turco’s legs. Damn.

- ‘You are a terrible influence’ has me asking SO MANY QUESTIONS. I WANT TO SEE MISCHIEVOUS KANE PLEASE. THE KANE THAT OPERATES WHEN HIS CHILDREN AREN’T AROUND TO SEE HIM ACTING ANYTHING LESS THAN WISE.

- ALSO when Abby said Roan was expecting her...was I the only one whose mind swept off into an AU where Abby is like...the king’s wife, but she’s getting it on with one of his most trusted Ambassadors and it’s a tale of star crossed lovers and... @kane-and-griffin SURELY YOU WENT THERE?

- Kane’s smile while she has her back to him is just lovely.

- AND THEN the whole interaction with the necklace is just wonderful. Abby will never stop loving Jake, she will never stop missing him. But she is allowed to move on. Knowing that won’t stop her feeling guilty though, at least for a little while. Her hesitation is true to real life, and Kane’s gentle understanding is absolutely exquisite. He is not at all fazed by the spectre of her dead husband, to the point that he does not hesitate to help her put the necklace back on. And Abby does not express her gratitude with words, but with a kiss - her own gentle reminder to him that despite that guilt that is impossibly to not feel, she knows that she wants him. That she wants this.

The T Kru

- So we check in with the new peeps. We have the leader who is alllll about taking out King Roan. I think it’s important to note Ilian pointing out that he only wants revenge against Skaikru, and not the king. 

- HEY LURKING LURKER WHO MIGHT YOU BE?

- Just kidding, it is clearly Octavia and I am about to be controversial...are you ready?

- Yes, Octavia looks like a badass, and angel of death, a vixen ready to get a mixen. HOWEVER...isn’t the point of an assassin meant to be that they are inconspicuous? If she wants to fade into the background and eavesdrop on conversations...if she wants her identity to remain secret for more than two minutes...shouldn’t she dress like everybody else? The cape is stunning but also....VERY UNIQUE COMPARED TO EVERYTHING ELSE WE HAVE EVER SEEN ON THIS SHOW.

- ANYWAY nobody notices her REALLY UNIQUE CAPE and Octavia learns vital information. The T Kru are going to challenge Roan to combat. Which, normally might be sweet, but Roan was shot - remember?

- God, I hate that crown. FREE ZACH’S BROW 2K17.

- ‘Now that the lift has been repaired’ AAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA *wheezes* Okay, show.

- I just want to point out that Octavia is still wearing Niylah’s clothes. JUST POINTING IT OUT LEAVE ME ALONE.

- Octavia has continuous smug face going on this season and I love it. Echo, perhaps, is not such a fan.

- ‘You’ll lose. Lexa kicked your ass...’ ROAN’S FACE AHAHAHA. And Kane’s reaction is priceless too. I am living for a season of Octavia just straight talking 24/7.

- Roan, Octavia and Kane are a squad I can get behind. Kane is going to try for diplomacy...we’ll see how that goes...

ADVENTURE SQUAD ASSEMBLE

- Clarke’s look is fucking great, I love it so much. It is hints of S1 whilst also being fresh. I am a staunch defender of most of season 3. I think the overarching...arcs... were necessary and well placed. But lawwwwd it is nice to see Clarke back at home, and looking like Clarke again.

- This scene really nicely sets up the differing stances of Bravelarke. Nobody is right, nobody is wrong. The back and forth is really nicely done. It’s all very head, heart, and hands I must say.

- ‘A choice your dad died for’ RAVEN REYES, SLYTHERIN.

- Clarke’s expression and voice get super fierce here. It makes me so sad for her considering the end of the episode. So Raven is Jake, Clarke is Jaha, and Bellamy is Abby? I’m for it.

- The real MVP of this scene is Monty, and I love how he isn’t actively part of the conversation that the ‘leaders’ are having, but his mind is constantly working. While the others are going around in circles, Monty thinks up a solution.

- ‘We’re standing in our viable solution.’ The way they all look around at the Ark which was both salvation and prison for them, all hopeful and wide eyed...IDK my dudes, it gives me the heart feelings.

Checking in with the other delinquents...

- Something about Bellamy going to Miller and Bryan gives me feelings, mostly bc of the knowledge that Bellamy and Miller are BFFs. RIGHT.

- Bryan is recovering remarkably well. I somehow doubt you should ever base gunshot wound recovery times off of this show folks.

- Bryan gets more character in this episode than he has at any other point. Jonathan does a really fantastic job of portraying his trepidation, his anger, and his general level of irritation at Miller.

- I LOVE THE PIKE CONVERSATION. IT IS VERY VERY IMPORTANT. It’s also super important that what Octavia did is referred to as murder here. Last episode we had Clarke assure Bellamy that Pike had it coming. I think that was said, for the most part, to make Bellamy feel better. But this show is nothing if not fair when it comes to showcasing all sides of things. Pike was, in most respects, a hero and saviour to Bryan. And he was elected Chancellor, fairly. It’s not a simple situation.

- ‘To save you, Nate.’ I’m not hardcore Briller or anything, but the delivery here was spot on. Annnnnd I actually think super important in establishing Bryan’s character some more. We all know Bryan will be heading out the door sooner or later, but I still appreciate how the shows likes to give any and all characters depth.

- The hug and no kiss thing is...weird. There can be no denying.

- JASPER’S WHOLE SHOWER SCENE. I FORGET HOW GOOD DEVON IS AT COMEDY.

- MONTY’S APPALLED FACE.

- HONESTLY THOUGH. When Jasper says ‘Monty’ all serious and turns off the shower, I CACKLE. And then ‘look at me’ I’M TRYING NOT TO. BLESS YOU LOVELY CHILDREN.

- As things stand, I am loving where the show has taken Jasper post 4x01. And I’m intrigued to see where it goes.

- MAYBE MONTY DID GRAB THE WEED. IDK HOW OR WHEN. BUT MAYBE.

- Obviously the best part of this scene is THE JONTY HIGH FIVE. HUZZAH.

- ‘Hey, you wanna hug?’ *giggles*

ADVENTURE SQUAD ASSEMBLE

- MONTY AND RAVEN’S INTERACTION IS SO WONDERFUL. THEY’RE ALL LIKE TEAM BRAIN, AND THEN MONTY POINTS OUT RAVEN’S BOOM FETISH, AND THEN THE I GOT THIS AND THE SHOULDER PAT AND THE JOKE.

- I LOVE ALL OF THEM SO MUCH.

- Okay, so Bellarke. There is this super brief shot after Clarke hands over the whatever whing, where Bellamy looks away from her and she just STARES AT HIM YOU GUYS. HER FACE IS SO WARM AND FOND AND GLOWY. I’VE NOT SEEN ANYONE ELSE MENTION THIS MILLISECOND FRAME BUT IT’S EVERYTHING.

- I’m personally not of the opinion that Bob intentionally winked, I think it’s just a face thing. BUT THERE CAN BE NO DENYING THE CUTE. WHO KNEW THAT IF BELLARKE ACTUALLY GOT TO SPEND TIME TOGETHER THEY’D GO RIGHT BACK TO THE DORKY JOKES AND THE ADORING EYE SMILES.

- WHAT IS THAT SHOT OF MONTY AND HARPER WATCHING THEM.

- Bellamy is so...energised this season? I’m fully loving it. I’m sure his self loathing is absolute, but he’s channelling it in such a positive way since he got to unload at Pike in 3x16. Clarke doesn’t have that same energy though, and you can almost see more of her own seep away as she watches him leave. 

- Also, another cute Raven and Monty nod. I POINT OUT ALL THE DETAILS OKAY. MAKE YOU READ ALL THE WORDS.

- That was a quick trip.

- The Marper hand hold is cute.

- Things go to shit pretty fast! Bellamy is all about making sure everybody else chills out in this episode. Even when he gets smacked upside the head, he is DEDICATED TO THE CAUSE.

- BELLAMY SPEAKING TRIG YO.

- It’s not my place to talk about in depth, but the casting of extras and small bits parts on this show feels remarkably diverse compared to literally everything else I watch.

- We get a clear indication that the Ice Nation are not particularly fond of their King.

- Personally...I don’t reallyyyyy get why they back down? But whatever. I guess the leader does at least slightly fear the king?

PRINCESS MECHANIC RISE

- Okay, so Raven having to do her first mini boss speech and feeling all awkward and overwhelmed is the start of what will end up being another amazing arc. I FEEL IT IN MY BONES.

- SINCLAIRRRRR. But we do at least see now why he kind of needed to die. Kabby must, obviously, be protected at all costs. However, this show very much is about the 100 (+ Raven and Bellamy). Raven has to rise to the occasion in his absence.

- This conversation between Raven and Clarke is EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING. It reminds me so much of S1 and ‘I’d pick you first.’ GAH. Just seeing them working together, and supporting each other means so much. Neither of them really know what they’re doing, but they’re doing it anyway. MORE. GIVE ME MORE.

- Fucking Jaha.

- Okay, FINE. Jaha having actual relevance to main characters is infinitely more interesting than Jaha out on his own doing his own wild things.

- I LOVE RAVEN BRINGING UP THE WRIST THING, AND CLARKE FINDING THE STRENGTH WITHIN TO POINT OUT THAT JAHA WAS ALSO CHIPPED. But Raven is having NONE of that. Remember that Jaha, at ALIEs behest, zoned in on Raven. She was the key. He went after her, after her injury, preyed on her pain. No wonder she is seething. Jaha’s zen owning of all his crimes is...vaguely interesting, I guess. 

- Sort the scrap you dumb dumb.

OH MY GOD, RILEY? RILEYYYY? IS THAT YOU?

- Even if preview articles and teasers hadn’t already given away what Bellamy’s choice would be, as soon as we saw that little girl we all know he was saving the slaves, right?

- The appearance of the slaves strikes me as entirely random and contrived though. Why would the Ice Nation have massacred so many of Farm Station if they had a legitimate use for them? Whatever.

- So, Riley! Definitely in to the idea of him and Bryan having a history together, and the two of them rowing off into some off screen happiness together later in the season. I’m sure, given time, Riley may grow on me. This show does a remarkable job of making me care about everyone. But at this point I feel nothing. I’m all in with Ilian, and intrigued by Kenza...Riley, not so much.

- Everything about Echo and Roan’s sparring is attractive. EVERYTHING.

- I’m sorry, but Abby is totally checking Roan out in all of her reaction shots. That, or she’s fantasising about Kane.

- ‘If you can’t help me, why the hell are you still here.’ That clearly influences Abby’s decision to leave later.

- So, I didn’t talk about Roan and Echo much earlier because I LOVE THIS SCENE HERE. I’m so intrigued by where the show is going with these two. It’s a huge deal that Roan trusts her with the radiation information. I suppose it might not be trust per se, perhaps more like necessity - but still! And I also think it means a lot that Echo seems truly dedicated to helping him. As was said in 4x01, she’s very loyal. It’s proving true so far.

- Echo at Arkadia. Now, that will be interesting.

Octavia, back at it again with the sass and the smirks.

- Kane makes a valiant attempt at diplomacy! He points out that while Arkadia might have helped spread the CoL, they also destroyed it and saved humanity. 

- When that doesn’t work, Octavia employs an intimidating lead with some shit talking. Solid tactics, O.

- NIYTAVIA FOR LIFE...but in the meantime, we’re calling it Butterfly Assassin?

- ‘Well that went well.’ Kane’s look up at her is just like, DON’T.

- CLARKE MY LOVE. I AM SO SAD FOR YOU. HEAVY LIES THE CROWN INDEED. IT’S TOO MANY PEOPLE. SO MANY ARE GONNA DIE. DAMN THIS SHOW.

- I kind of adore that Clarke’s reaction to hearing music is DA FUQ IS THIS? NO TO MUSIC. NO TO JOY.

- I really enjoy the scene with Clarke and Jasper. You can still feel his anger at Clarke, but...I don’t know...there’s something different about it. I almost feel like Jasper has put aside his anger, and is just...shooting from the hip, rather than from grief? Clarke’s face breaks my heart when he points out how similar it all sounds to them being sent to the ground though.

THE BIG DECISION

- Okay, so first of all...I love that we got to hear everybody’s perspective. This was democracy at work and it wasn’t a decision Bellamy made alone. So we can put that narrative to bed now.

- Minty lives

- I’m actually not going to go in depth on the choice that Bellamy ultimately makes, because I can see both sides and I don’t think either is right or wrong. We don’t have to justify anything here. Yes, perhaps somewhere down the line the squad will realise that the generator really was their only option and the reality of his choice will crash down on Bellamy. But imagine that he had decided to leave the slaves, and then in two weeks time they found a gigantic underground bunker that could fit 10,000 people. He’d feel pretty shit about letting the slaves suffer then, right? The characters don’t know what the future holds, and they don’t have the benefit of knowing they are part of a narrative which ensures that some of them will at least survive. 

- So, whatever basically. I’d have been cool with this going either way.

- Stoke that they saved Riley though, obviously.

- Important quote to note... ‘we have Raven.’ I, like Bellamy, believe that Raven Reyes can do anything - including make water out of nothing.

- Also worth noting how...incredibly risky their plan was? Like. Yikes.

- Harper kicking due in the face is my kink.

- MONTY IS SUPER GREAT IN THIS EPISODE. Everything about his reaction to meeting his dads murderer is just exquisitely well done. Leaving his death to the slaves is both powerful and also really quite dark.

Heavy Lies the Crown

- The Clarke/Jaha scene is so good and so hurtful to me. 

- Fucking Jaha.

- Clarke referencing her father and being locked up is really important, but...so is the parallel to Jaha’s choices. Ugh. Everything he says is actually so on point, and you can see realisation that Clarke is seeing herself in Jaha is disgusting to her but also unavoidable.

- Back to Kabby. We saw Kane have absolute faith in Abby last episode, so it’s nice to hear her being so sure that he will figure something out (YES, IT’S ALL VERY BELLARKE I KNOW).

- Kane quickly figures out that Abby is going back to Arcadia (judging from the promo, she’s going to be needed). I’m excited for this because more Abby and Clarke, but also maybe some Clarke and Raven please? We get some more gloriously supportive stuff from Kane...

- And then Kane notices that Abby isn’t wearing her necklace! Upon first viewing, I didn’t pick up on the fact that this scene feels a bit cut up. I can see it on second watch, and I can understand that’s frustrating. That being said, I don’t think the scene loses its meaning? To me, the removal of her necklace is Abby’s way of saying she’s ready to move on and it’s her way of saying it to Kane without putting it into words.

- Prayer circle that Abby gives the rings to Clarke.

- LOOK AT HOW MUCH THAT CAPE STANDS OUT OKAY.

- So, I’m skipping straight to the murder. I FUCKING LOVE ITTTTTTTTTTT. I just...I’m so relieved that Octavia’s mudering is FOR her people, and not against. It makes so much sense.

- I can’t help giggling a little at Octavia being so ballsy about dueling these folk. THEY MIGHT ALL BE TONS BETTER THAN YOU, BABE. THEY’VE HAD YEARS TO PRACTICE. But whatever.

- Soooo the stabbing into the earhole to hide the wound and thus make it seem like he died of natural causes is BADASS.

- HEADCANON: Octavia did not learn this tactic on the ground. She learned it as a child when Bellamy was reading her some classic murderous fiction.

- ‘LONG LIVE THE KING.’ Nice.

- Kane is CONCERNED about his daughter’s MURDEROUS WAYS.

- Ilian has also figured it out.

- And Echo too seems suspicious. STICKING A PIN IN THAT FOR THE FUTURE.

Clarke, we have adopted more children

- So Briller are breaking up, and I can’t be mad at the show for it because Jonathan got a new gig and can’t commit (sound familiar, oooh I went there). I do hope that this time around they let him just disappear into the sunset. Learn from your mistakes show.

- Make sure he takes Riley with him.

- Again, kudos to Jonathan for this ep. He really brings it.

- RILEY RILEY RILEY YES WE KNOW THAT IS HIS NAME. STOP.

- Okay, so the scene where Riley and Clarke are revealed as old friends (I have zero romance fears here btw) is HILLARIOUS TO ME. It’s so blatantly shoe horned in. AS IF they would be reunited, hug, and then just...blah. Like...it’s so noodley? 

- Anyway, Raven realises there is no generator and Bellamy fesses up to his maternal instincts.

- I actually love Clarke’s ‘you just did’. The delivery doesn’t imply blame to me, which is backed up by how immediately Clarke accepts his choice. It’s more a simple statement of fact, coming from a place of understanding.

- Raven, on the other hand, is pissed. ‘You’re not the only one who has to live with it. As usual.’ This is a direct throwback to Bellamy chucking the radio, right? That’s pertinent to their history. Look, Raven is a spitfire. She’s scared and under pressure, and she hasn’t had to make the leadership calls yet. She clearly will at some point this season, and we’ll see her gain a healthy dose of respect for Clarke and Bellamy when she does. For now, I think her anger is perfect.

- I know ‘no more than a 100′ is really on the nose but I LOVE IT SO SO MUCH. WHO’S GONNA MAKE IT YOU GUYS. AHHHH. MY SHOW.

- BRAVENLARKE FOR LIFE.

- CLARKE QUOTES JAHA AT BELLAMY AND SHE JUST LOOKS SO BROKEN ABOUT IT. My dear girl, you’ll be okay...somehow.

- Clarke is just the accepted leader of Skaikru now and I love it.

- TOGETHER. Looks at Bellamy. OF COURSE SHE DOES. Can we also talk about Raven’s heart eyes towards Clarke? I mean...they fade to ash pretty fast, but just for that moment it’s the purest of loves!

- So, Clarke lies, and just like Bellamy and the generator...I won’t call right or wrong. There is no answer, just a choice. 

- ‘Your father would be so proud’ OUCH. OUCH. OUCH. Raven lashing out at Clarke here is much more personal than what she says to Bellamy. It’s more vicious. But I’m still not going to rail on her, for the same reasons as mentioned above. It’s time for her to get to work. I am so excited to see her in this role.

- And so Bellamy repeats ‘we save who we can save today’ and the important thing here is how Clarke nods. She’s not mad. She respects and understands his choice. Most of all she trusts him. Even if she CAN’T understand a choice he makes, she’ll always trust that it came from the right place. They’re a team.

- And to reinforce that, the episode ends with a glorious Bellarke shot as they contemplate what is to come.

- How many episodes will end with a Bellarke shot this season? I say 12/13.

- I AM SO VERY HYPED FOR NEXT WEEK.

My laptop is acting up and I’m as grumpy as a Clarke that hears music playing, so I’m not even re reading this. Apologies for typos. And congratulations if you made it to the end!

#the 100 #the 100 recap #bellarke #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #bob morley #eliza taylor #raven reyes #lindsey morgan

[torentialtribute]

Former Everton defender Pat Van den Hauwe reveals he held a gun to a man’s head

& # 39; If I had pulled that trigger, I wouldn't be sitting here now & # 39 ;, says Pat Van den Hauwe. & # 39; He wouldn't be around either. & # 39;

& # 39; He & # 39; is the South African acquaintance who has avoided a debt and has ended up paying his life within a split second by a double English First Division champion and a fourfold FA Cup finalist.

To tell the story of the Belgian-born, London Van den Hauwe, a stylish but tenacious Defend the nickname & # 39; Psycho Pat & # 39 ;, you have to start on that sultry evening in Cape Town, to ask the question: how did he ever get so close to committing murder?

Pat Van den Hauwe revives the night that I nearly shot a man in Cape Town, But first to the beach bar in Camps Bay, more than 20 years ago.

But while he once put the blue shirt of Birmingham, Everton and Millwall or the whites of Tottenham in his shorts, now he was wearing a gun, he had become so paranoid amid cocaine indulgence and underworld figures. So what happened?

& # 39; I nearly shot someone & # 39 ;, says the 58-year-old, with his birth. Why?

& # 39; His arrogance, and because he continued to restrain me for the money I had lent him. I was drinking with friends and walked by. I shouted: "When are you going to pay me? It's months ago."

No chance. So I walked over to him and put the gun on his head and said, "Where's my money?"

& # 39; I had a hair puller. It doesn't need much pressure. I also had hollow point bullets. They blow your head away. If I had done that, I would still be in prison.

& # 39; They have split seconds … if some noise had gone off, or if it had gone for me, I would have pulled that trigger. It was a millisecond decision. It was life-changing.

& # 39; The next day I thought, "What kind of fuck did I do there?"

& # 39; Van den Hauwe had won the First & # 39;

& # 39; But what I did not do that evening, it has haunted me since. & # 39; Division and European Cup Winners & Cup with Everton in 1985 and two years later his goal in a 1-0 win over Norwich in May 1987 helped regain the title.

He raised the FA Cup with Spurs in 1991 and played for Wales, a handsome poster boy with a cockney charm.

But during his time on White Hart Lane I met two people who would steer his life naturally – Ossie Ardiles and the Mandy Smith model.

Van den Hauwe first deals with Ardiles, the Argentinian installed the Spurs manager in 1993.

It happened more than 20 years ago when I ended up in South Africa to escape from England

& # 39; I immediately knew something was wrong. He said to me: "You are not in my plans." Why? & # 39; Do you remember that match in Birmingham? & # 39;

Van den Hauwe imitates dropping his jaws. & # 39; I did it in a tackle when I played for Spurs ten years earlier.

& # 39; At the time, there was little conflict between England and Argentina. I stood over him and said a few words. But I was a kid, I didn't know what I was saying.

& # 39; He had remembered it. So that was that, from playing every week to doing nothing. He then blocked me from joining another First Division club.

& # 39; I felt like throwing him through his f ****** counter. I had a few years left at the top.

We return to Smith, the former wife of a Rolling Stone that I met in a wine bar after an introduction by Spurs teammate Paul Walsh

]

They married in 1993 with the photos splashed about Hello! magazine. But the relationship, he said, was dysfunctional and was controlled by Smith's mother, who lived with them. They divorced within two years.

& # 39; If I could do it all again, I would never come close. The biggest mistake I've ever made. It was a different life and I hated it.

& # 39; Like f ****** that! & # 39;

Sportsmail & # 39; s photographer starts to click away Van den Hauwe is animated. I can not stand it! Years ago I would have chased you f ******! & # 39;

Our man lowers his lens.

& # 39; It became too much, I couldn't handle it. Three times we were on the cover of Hello! – It was a joke. Her mother was all about the money.

Some people thrive on celebrities, not me. I even let one of the Krays ask me to visit him in prison! I refused. "

& # 39; Mick is a lovely guy, but if you cross him … he was so fond of, & # 39; Come then, if you want something? & # 39 ;. But I honestly had given up.

& I knew the end was and it was the end too early.I played in the Second Division and live at home with my parents.

& # 39; I called Mick and said: & # 39; I'm ready. & # 39; I was a gentleman and they paid my contract. & # 39;

If that had a sad ending – I moved to South Africa soon afterwards – then the start and the middle were much more fun. He had made his debut in Birmingham City in 1978, where Mick Harford was a teammate. He laughs before he recalls one story.

& # 39; One evening we were on the road with our partners to drive through the city when a car cut us to pieces. It really turned Mick off, and when that happened, he didn't stop him.

& # 39; We have been chasing them for about 20 minutes. Eventually they stopped – three of them. "Ah s ***!"

& # 39; But Mick jumped out, opened his shoe, got this big golf club and broke their engine. They quickly got it. "

If Van den Hauwe had tried to play the peacemaker on that occasion, he would soon be the troublemaker.

& # 39; That came at QPR when I was one of their players on the Howard Kendall (Everton boss) said: "That was the best I've seen you play, but I still rate two weeks' wages"

& # 39; I was furious until I found out went to an end of the season p *** up in Magaluf! & # 39;

I met a girl on the first day, she was beautiful. I haven't seen the boys for the week. She asked me to move to Alaska and work at her ranch.

& # 39; I would give it all up. It was only Howard who stopped me. "

& # 39; I was caught, right? & # 39; I ended up in the hospital with a blood disease. My ankle was swollen and the virus turned out to be pretty serious. That was difficult, missing games. & # 39;

But Van Den Hauwe did not miss the big one, such as Everton & # 39; s 3-1 win over Rapid Vienna in the cup winner's final or the semi-final win over Bayern

He was three times losing to Everton in the FA Cup final but won the medal of his winner with Spurs against Nottingham Forest, the last notorious for Paul Gascoigne & # 39; s injury

& # 39 I am often asked if the senior pro & # 39; s could have calmed him down. No chance. I turned around before we left the tunnel. & # 39;

& # 39; But we wanted it winning for him after he left. I loved Gazza, the best I played with. "

I have no idea! There was no Welsh blood.

We meet at the Blue Base, in an Everton

It was for Liverpool that Van den Hauwe returned from South Africa three years ago. community center where he works, spends time with dementia sufferers. He is also a hostess at Goodison Park.

I am happy, I feel alive, he says.

That last comment, we learn, is a reference to how low he felt before the end of his time in South Africa.

I was just divorced (for the third time). One day you are awake and you are dead the next day.

& # 39; I spent 20 years there and had to sell all my medals, work a lifetime. I would have been caught and lost money. I was drained.

& # 39; The thought of starting all over again was too much. But then you think: & # 39; I have something to give & # 39 ;.

& # 39; It was not easy. When I returned, I didn't think anyone would remember me. I was stiff again when I spoke for the fans.

& # 39; Now my confidence returns. I have a lot to be thankful for, I just had to realize that. & # 39;

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#Former Everton defender Pat Van den Hauwe reveals he held a gun to a man’s head"